Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [2]
Folkard looked down at the respirator mask and goggles that sat in his lap. The downside of being in London, of course, was the amount of gas and debris in the air. Breathing fresh air in the City of London was a thing of the past, and it seemed that the darkness of night only served to exasperate the problem. Still, he would be in the aether soon, and would be breathing air freshly oxygenated by the plants in the greenhouse of the Sovereign.
He looked up from his lap as the door next to the chair on which he sat opened. Folkard immediately stood to attention and saluted. He had expected to be greeted by an aide, not by Lord Chillingham himself. Chillingham looked Folkard up and down and let out an hmm. Folkard was not sure if it was an hmm of approval or an hmm of distaste. Lord Chillingham’s eyes gave nothing away, as they were wont to do. Things must be pretty rum if the Lord Minister Overseas feels the need to attend the briefing, Folkard mused, holding his salute.
“As you were, Captain Folkard. Please enter.”
“Yes, sir,” Folkard said, and walked passed Lord Chillingham and entered the board room of the Lord Commissioners of the Admiralty.
Chapter One
The Scientist Travels
1.
EXCERPT 1.
“Beyond the Inner Worlds: The Journal of Professor Nathanial Stone” (Published July 2011, by Chadwick Press)
Friday April 12th, 1889.
I think my time at the Her Majesty’s Naval and Aeronautical Construction Yards is coming to an end. William has been a great host, very understanding of my quirks (quirks! The eternal damnation of a young genius!), and it has been exhilarating to be a part of his design team, incorporating my own design into the construction of the latest class of Naval battleship – the first proper aether flyer design based on the battleships put out to sea. Mankind has only been in space for less than three decades, barely a scratch of time when compared to the length of our infestation of the waters of Earth. I fear we shall disturb things sleeping in the vastness of space in the same way we have disturbed the sleeping creatures of the deep. Yet the will of mankind is indomitable; it is a fire that will not be doused, no matter what the elements throw at it.
For my own part I cannot but help myself in improving the initial designs Doctor Grant and I developed; that it brings mankind a more efficient way of traversing the solar sky cannot be helped. I did not ask to be born with this intellect, and I would be remiss in my duty to the British Empire if I were to attempt to hide it beneath a rock. So I do not. I invent, I design, I explore…It is what God made me to do.
Yes, God. The Almighty. My father would no doubt be amused to see me write such words, although he ought not to be as it was he who instilled in me this belief in a Divine Creator. Perhaps this is why I am happy to help William in his construction of more powerful aether flyers; my father, the Honourable Reverend Ronald Stone of Putney Parish Church, believes God is out there. Perhaps one day, if mankind continues to stretch out through the aether, we will find him.
When we do, I hope I am there. For I would like to ask him this: Why, O Lord, did you make me wrong? My dean at Mortarhouse College could never answer such a question, and he was a very learned man. Only the Almighty can answer me now.
Alas it seems any more deep mental meanderings of mine will have to be saved for another day since there is an insistent knock at my door. William said he wished me to dine with him tonight, so this must be it. He has never asked for me to dine with him before, and this is the root of my belief that I am soon to depart the Naval Construction Yards. I will be sorry to go, however it will