Steampunk Prime_ A Vintage Steampunk Reader - Mike Ashley [103]
Now, to proceed with my story, it was on the evening of the 42nd–3rd (or, as they would have called it in the old romantic days, August the 7th) that I first witnessed what I know now to have been the preliminary sign of the subsequent events. The preceding night, I remember, a severe thunderstorm had occurred, which, it was reported by the news agencies, had somewhat disturbed the wires at many of the overhead airship stations, and I have an idea that this circumstance had a good deal to do with the catastrophe. I do not agree at all with Councillor Gruvier’s theory that the first cause took place under the earth, in spite of the fact that he is our premier electrician. However, on the evening of the 42nd, I was returning from business, and left my auto-car at the office, preferring to walk, by way of a change; and I remember I was amused by a fussy old gentleman, who accosted me, and remarked that “he was glad to see I preferred the good, old-fashioned method of walking, friend. In his young days, friend, there wasn’t so many of these confounded electric chair-cars about! Nowadays, every little whipper-snapper who owned a cent could rush about on his car, and they ought to be made to have a license, friend, a license!”
I had been traversing the Great Portsmouth Road, and even then there seemed to be a vague sense of impending disaster — an indefinable feeling of danger.
The Great Portsmouth Road (I believe it is now reopened) is very similar to most of our great American roads. The monotonous, low whirring of the thousands of auto-cars, the yelling of the traffic directors, and every now and then the heavy clanging of some airship bell overhead. I remember, also, on that night very few people were walking, and I had nearly the whole of the side footways, reserved for pedestrians, to myself. Soon I turned into Regent Street, one of the oldest streets in the city, and a principal side street of the Great Portsmouth Road, and here I paused to gaze awhile at the scene below me.
The numberless cars, vehicles, and public trains were all speeding as swiftly as ever to their destinations, bewildering the eye, when suddenly everything seemed to be forcibly stopped by some invisible power; in an instant the yelling and confusion were terrific; nearly every car crashed into another, people were thrown out and under wheels, and even as I looked showers of blue sparks darted along the great public conduits on each side of the way, and I felt a curious sensation, as of an electric shock.
By this time many people had joined me on the footway, and were excitedly exchanging opinions as to what was the matter.
The whole duration of the episode was hardly ten minutes. The road officials made investigations, and could discover nothing wrong; one or two cars began to move again, and very soon traffic was resumed in the ordinary manner. With the exception of one or two slight injuries no one was hurt. Although I was puzzled by the incident, I did not think it very serious; but, being a journalist, I had no doubt it would make “good copy,” so rushing to the nearest telephone office, I speedily sent an account of the affair in to my newspaper.
After this I proceeded to my lodging, a couple of rooms in one of the Municipal Housing Company’s buildings. I went to bed, still pondering over the strange