The Mechanical Messiah (31 page)

Wealthy patrons sought escape from the grounds in their carriages. Carriages that were now somewhat all jammed up together. An appropriate word to describe this jamming-up rose unbidden in the mind of Cameron Bell. The word was ‘gridlock’.

‘Out of my way!’ he shouted, fighting his way through the toffs who had managed to get themselves all wedged in amongst the carriages. ‘Out of my way. Injured woman in need of medical attention.’

He elbowed here and elbowed there and presently winkled his way to the single cause of the gridlock: a parked hansom cab that blocked the way of all, besieged by toffs who each sought to claim it as their own.

Through a somewhat complicated piece of girl-juggling, Cameron Bell managed to draw out his ray gun without dropping Alice to the ground. Still unconscious, Alice did not see what followed.

Cameron Bell shot at the driver’s hat. Reducing it to ashes. ‘Down from there,’ he shouted. ‘I am commandeering this cab.’

‘Lord save me!’ cried the driver, clutching at his hair which smouldered somewhat. ‘It’s ‘im. ‘Im as robbed me before.’

Some toffs took to backing away at this. Cameron brandished his ray gun at them. The circle widened further.

‘I’ve called the bobbies on you,’ quoth the driver. ‘And not just me, it seems. That Johnny Foreigner in the ticket office called ‘em, too. And the fitter of clothes. You are a wanted man, Mr Pickwick.’

‘Down!’ shouted Cameron Bell. ‘Or I add murder to the charges against me. Take the woman from me, place her in the cab, sit beside her and see that she comes to no harm.’

‘Now see here—’ said a toff.

Cameron clunked him with the ray gun.

The driver descended and did as he was bid. Cameron climbed up to take his place at the reins.

‘Out of the way,’ he shouted at the toffs. The toffs got out of the way.

Cameron Bell took up the whip, cracked it in the air. ‘Gee-up, Shergar,’ he shouted to the horse. ‘Fly like a bats-man out of Hell.’

It certainly eased the gridlock.

But it did not please the thousands fleeing down the hill upon foot.

‘Out of the way!’ shouted Mr Bell once more, whipping away at Shergar.

Patrons of the Music Hall dodged to either side as best they could as Cameron steered the hansom cab forward. And them above the awful sounds of fiery destruction, the screams of fear and cries of anger as Cameron drove over fellows’ feet, came other sounds that Mr Bell did not find any too pleasing.

These were the sounds of police whistles blowing. And of policemen shouting. ‘There he is, driving that hansom, ‘came one such shout. ‘It’s Mr Pickwick all right,’ came another. Further shouts identified this Mr Pickwick to be a robber, a fanatic, an assassin and an arsonist.

From his perch upon high Cameron could see the bobbies climbing into the cockpits of their new electric Marias. He also noted, without satisfaction, that they were armed with ray guns far bigger than his own.

‘Faster, Shergar,’ Cameron shouted. ‘Out of the way there,
please.’

Down the sweeping drive from the Crystal Palace ploughed the hansom. Flames roared within the mighty building, flared out through the fractured roof Electric Marias purred after Cameron Bell. Phrases such as ‘dead or alive’ were being bandied about. Thousands fled in terror and Mr Bell whipped Shergar into a frenzy.

Down the hill and gathering pace towards the Royal Spaceport.

Upon the departure strip of the Royal London Spaceport stood a single ship of space preparing to depart. It was a somewhat battered old hulk, although serviceable, and Colonel Katterfelto, arriving half an hour before, had identified it to be none other than—

‘The good old
Marie Lloyd,
Darwin. Flown in this old spacebird before, damn me. Very small world at times, doncha think?’ he asked.

Darwin had agreed that yes, he considered that it really was a
very
small world at times. Perhaps at certain times to a degree where such an abundance of coincidences surely argued for the existence of a higher force, orchestrating such coincidences for a purpose presently beyond all Earthly comprehension.

‘Possibly so,’ the colonel had said. ‘Now give us a hand with me bags.’

The bags were now aboard the
Marie Lloyd.
The Jovians too were all aboard and they were all strapped in. Their luggage and their weapons stowed, their space-sickness tablets taken. Corporal Larkspur was demonstrating how to use the oxygen masks, if they were needed, and where the emergency exits were.

Colonel Katterfelto took a last look at the Earth through the open doorway. ‘Van Allen’s Belt and braces,’ puffed the colonel. ‘The bally Crystal Palace is ablaze. Folk in their thousands running down the hill.’

Exactly why the sounds of all this had failed to reach the spacecraft before now was open to conjecture. Some form of acoustic anomaly, perhaps, or the direction of the prevailing wind. Or a careless oversight, who could possibly say?

Darwin the monkey bounced up and down. Fire was fun,
at a distance.

‘Best offer assistance,’ puffed the colonel. ‘Put the launch on hold for now. Women and children first.’

‘Canst not be done,’ declared the corporal, buckling up his safety belt. ‘The automatic pilot hath been engaged. And verily the ship will rise into the heavens in but seconds now.’

Colonel Katterfelto, not a man to dither, dithered.

Then cried, ‘Bless my soul.’

For approaching at considerable speed and apparently pursued by most of the Metropolitan Police Force was a single hansom cab.

Colonel Katterfelto squinted. ‘It’s that Balls chap,’ said he.

Darwin the monkey gibbered and pointed.

‘Yes, my dear fellow, I see her, too. It’s young Alice in the cab. Unconscious, by the looks.’

‘Closeth the door,’ demanded the corporal, growing somewhat frantic. ‘If thou dost not close it, yea we shall be suckéd through it upon take-off’

Colonel Katterfelto put his hands to the door, but did not swing it shut.

‘Stop, hold hard,’ cried Cameron Bell, drawing the hansom to a halt.

‘Sorry, old chap,’ called the colonel. ‘We have to be off I’m afraid.’

Darwin bit the colonel on the leg. Darwin the monkey still had a thing about Alice.

‘Yes, you’re right, my dear fellow. Go on, hurry, help him.’

Darwin skittered down the gangway and helped Cameron Bell in lifting Alice down from the hansom cab.

The driver took to cowering. As bobbies in range took to blasting away with their ray guns.

Up the gangway went Cameron Bell, with Alice over one shoulder.

Darwin did what Darwin did: dropped his trousers, produced and flung dung towards the advancing policemen.

‘Inside, quickly now,’ called the colonel.

Cameron Bell, carrying Alice, entered the spaceship, and Darwin, too. The colonel slammed shut the door.

Ray-gun fire without disintegrated the gangway.

Within the spaceship came a shuddering.

Followed by a great roar of engines.

The
Marie Lloyd
rose up from the spaceport.

And made off into the sky.

ut into space went the
Marie Lloyd,
leaving the Earth behind.

Darwin clung to the colonel’s leg. The colonel peeped out through a porthole.

‘Always a stirring sight,’ said he. ‘Forgotten how much I love this kind of business.’

Corporal Larkspur was out of his seat now. ‘What hast thou done?’ he asked.

‘Done?’ said the colonel. ‘Done? Helped a fellow in distress. A lady too, doncha know.’

The fellow in distress lay upon the floor in a somewhat sweaty heap. The lady had been safety-belted into the colonel’s seat.

Darwin the monkey said, ‘I should be flying this ship.’

‘Thy nephew canst
not
fly the ship,’ Corporal larkspur ‘told the colonel. ‘It is automatically set, it needeth no pilot whatever.’

Darwin considered biting the corporal; his ‘uncle’ sensing that this might just be the case, advised against it. ‘Bit early in the hunt for that kind of stuff,’ he said. ‘Best all pull together as a team.’

The Jovian hunting party snored in their seats. They had downed soporifics and nodded off just prior’ to take-off. They would be out for hours. Not so, however, a certain private detective.

Cameron Bell made a groaning ascent into the vertical plane. He was now severely space-sick. He needed the toilet.

‘That way,’ directed the colonel. ‘And if you are going to chuck-up, follow the instructions carefully. Gravity be shutting off in a moment. Could get rather nasty in there.’

Cameron Bell made off in haste towards the bathroom.

There was not much in Mr Bell’s stomach, but what little there was he hurled into the Thomas Crapper. Flushed and washed his hands and face, then found himself wonderfully floating. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, except within the world of his dreams. And he was not dreaming now.

Alice awoke with a sudden start and glanced around fearfully. She gazed towards a porthole and saw what lay beyond.

‘Oh not again,’ said Alice. ‘I am once more away with the fairies.’

Colonel Katterfelto smiled down upon her. His feet were not touching the spaceship’s floor.

‘I want to go home at once,’ said Alice. ‘I want my kiwi birds.’

But then the memories of what had gone before came rushing into her head. ‘That monster,’ she cried. ‘That monster.’

‘You are quite safe now,’ said the colonel, floating over her head. ‘That Balls chap brought you aboard the spaceship.’

‘Aboard the spaceship?’ Alice stiffened. ‘Am I really here?’

‘Really here, my dear. Like to drop you off. But not possible, I’m afraid. Automatic pilot and all that kind of gubbinry.’

Cameron Bell returned from the bathroom. Somewhat pale of face, but not without a certain chipperness. He bobbed along the ceiling, propelling himself with breaststroke motions. ‘What larks,’ he cried, and, ‘Alice, are you well?’

Alice Lovell felt at her throat. ‘Did you save my life?’ she asked.

‘Well,’ said Cameron, thinking of the kiwi birds, ‘you might say that—’

‘Thank you,’ said Alice. ‘You are a wonderful man.’

‘Only doing what any gentleman would.’ Cameron Bell performed am aerial head-over-heels and said, ‘You really should join me up here, Alice. If you do not feel unwell.’

‘Thou must come down,’ said Corporal Larkspur. ‘We must discusseth the matter of your fares. Thou hast pushed thyself aboard a most exclusive big-game hunting trip. Thou canst not travel for nowt.’

Cameron Bell steered himself down. Steered himself into the corporal’s seat and strapped himself in with the safety belt.

‘Perhaps you might drop us off in Africa,’ said he. ‘I certainly cannot return to London for the moment. Neither would it be safe for Alice to do so. Her life would be in jeopardy.’

‘Would it?’ said Alice. ‘What have I done?’

‘The creature cannot let you live,’ said Cameron Bell. ‘I am so sorry that you became involved in this.’

Alice glanced wistfully once more out of the porthole. ‘It was preordained,’ said she. ‘I have visions, you see.

‘Ah,’ said Cameron. ‘Visions? I thought it might be something of the kind.’

‘I had a vision of being on a spaceship. And here I am.’

‘Indeed. So, would Africa be all right for you? Or would you prefer Australia?’

‘Thou talkest the toot,’ said the Jovian corporal. ‘The controls are preset. We continueth upon our voyage. Thou canst not be returned unto the Earth.’

‘Well well well,’ said Cameron Bell, and then he smiled most hugely. ‘That suits me rather well, as it happens. There would be far too much explaining to do to Commander Case. And what with the danger to Alice and all, a week or two of big-game hunting on Mars would be a most bracing and refreshing experience.’