Cogs in Time Anthology (The Steamworks Series Book 1) Read online

  “Through a Tesla portal, no doubt. Right, Reggie?”

  “Of course, Harry. The Twentieth Century is dawning, only months away. Things are changing. The portals are safe and convenient. They aren't putting railways or shipping out of business, and they aren't forcing you into retirement. That's your own bloody choice.”

  “And they also make it more convenient to hold onto the colonies, don’t they?”

  “Of course. We can quell an uprising in minutes with reinforcements from half way around the world. We have to protect the crown’s interests, Harry. The portals are making that possible. Expansion and exploration are more convenient. Imagine stepping out of your house and into the jungles of South America, without wasting time and expense, or lives. Sure, an airship can drop a portal anywhere, but someone has to go through that portal first.”

  “And any fool can do that. I'm not needed.”

  Shepherd bit into a cube of cheese and grinned. “That's where you're wrong, Harry. I know you. You can't sit on your veranda the rest of your life. If there's a hill, you have to see what's on the other side. If there's a door, you have to open it. Go ahead and write another one of your memoirs, but sooner or later, you'll leave this house.”

  Pierce glared at his old friend. “I’m tired of having my work used for the expansion of the empire. Either ours or someone else’s. I’m tired of opening up a new area of the world only to have some government come in and try to civilize it.”

  “We’re subjects of the crown, Harry. Besides, Murunga doesn’t seem to resent being civilized.”

  “The Maasai have their own culture, it’s just different from ours. Besides, he happens to like European culture, but that’s his choice. It’s a curiosity with him. I don’t force it on him. Any so-called primitive society is ripe for exploitation. If it’s not the British, it’s the Germans. Or Belgians. Or Russians. Even the Americans. I just will not be a part of it anymore.”

  He and Shepherd had fought side by side in the Royal Army together and had been on expeditions together. Shepherd had made these arguments before, even before Tesla and his transportation portals became news and the rigid airships began emerging. He was holding something else back. Pierce felt his curiosity stirring. Shepherd knew him too well.

  “What is it, Reggie? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  “The Tesla portals need receivers.”

  “I understand how they work. The Faraday coils, the electromagnetic current and all that. And receivers, like the wireless. So?”

  “Yes. Like the wireless. Dial in a frequency, and you get a different receiver. My trip from London to Nairobi could have just as easily been London to New York with the turn of a knob. But our researchers have happened upon frequencies that aren't part of the normal range for known portals.”

  Pierce shrugged. “Other countries have been building their own portals. Germany, Russia. They all want to keep hold of their own colonies.”

  “True. The Czar and the Kaiser both want to expand their empires with the help of portals, where most other countries want to expand commerce and trade. We're trying to deal with that, but that isn't the issue. These frequencies are different. There are no portals at the other end of the signal. Just a receiver point.”

  “How's that possible?”

  Shepherd dug into a messenger pouch he had been carrying over his shoulder and pulled out a bundle of photographs. He pushed the stack across the tablecloth. The top picture was of a thick jungle.

  “South America?” Pierce asked.

  “No. Our people were able to dial in the frequency and travel through a portal to the point of origin, but without a portal on the other end, the first team couldn't make a return. A second team took a portal through for a return trip. The first team through took these photographs. The third picture shows how the frequency was transmitted.”

  Pierce looked at the photograph. Still jungle, but with a tall metal pole buried in the ground that reached up into the sky, above the tree line.

  “An aerial?”

  “Exactly!” Shepherd said.

  Pierce paged through more photographs. Something wasn't right. He had been in many jungles. Congo. Brazil. India. Sumatra. This was different. It was difficult to see details in the monochrome, but the plants were different. Similar, but species he had never seen before. Flowers whose shapes resembled orchids, but none he knew. One photograph showed a number of arboreal creatures that looked more canine than simian.

  Then he came to the photographs of a city. A tall, broad building that reminded him of Hindu ruins rising from the jungle growth that crumbled their stones. However, these were not ruins. The walls were smooth and strong. Pierce came to the last photograph, and then leafed through them again. The building was shown from a distance, with little detail. A lost city?

  “Our first expedition couldn't get close enough,” Shepherd said. “Apparently, one man climbed a tree and took those pictures. The jungle’s pretty thick. We're outfitting another to explore the city and discover who constructed the aerial. If they have portal technology, perhaps we can learn a thing or two.”

  “This isn't right. I've never seen buildings like this. They aren't Hindu or Mayan. And these plants and animals. They don't make sense. Where on earth...”

  Shepherd grinned. “Ah, but they aren't on Earth. That's the point, old friend. This is another planet, far from our sun. Our scientists confirmed that the sun is not our sun. It can sustain human life, but did humans build that structure? We don't know. So what do you think, Harry? Care for a little trip?”

  Pierce stared down at the stack of photographs in his hands. Another world. Mars? No, not from these pictures. A bright sun and lush vegetation, that couldn’t be Mars. Venus? Hard to tell from black and white pictures, but the sky appeared clear of clouds. And Shepherd said they determined the sun was not our sun. This is a different solar system. Pierce felt a thumping in his chest. The chance to step through that portal and onto another planet, under another sun, to explore a place no one has ever been, no one had ever dreamed existed, to enter a city not inhabited by humans…

  He tossed the photographs back at Shepherd. “Forget it.”

  “Not interested in seeing a new planet?”

  “Not interested in opening up a new colony for the empire to exploit.”

  Shepherd tucked the photographs back into his pouch, but pulled another out. “I told the ministry you might not be interested. They wanted me to assure you that this is only to explore and discover new technology. They wanted me to show you this, a photograph of the first expedition.”

  He slid the photograph across the table. Pierce picked it up and studied the group of men clustered together in the small clearing in the jungle, the thick metal pole of the aerial behind them. Their helmets were off, tucked under arms, to expose grinning faces. Tough, experienced soldiers ready for an adventure. One face he recognized.

  “Sam?” he said.

  “Your brother led the first expedition. He’s captain, now, did you know.”

  “You have him, you certainly don’t need me.” His brother was a true patriot, ready to expand and exploit in the name of the crown.

  A gloominess in Shepherd’s face made Pierce’s anger dissolve.

  “The first expedition disappeared. The second team that set up the portal for the return trip never found them. Just their abandoned equipment, like the camera with these photographs, but not a trace of the men.”

  * * * *

  Pierce stood on the deck of the airship's control room, taking in the panoramic view of the English countryside through the rows of windows running the length of the cabin, feeling the gentle rocking of the craft and the vibrations under his feet from the engines that turned the maneuvering propellers. The hundred foot long craft had been built by the American company, Fletcher Industries, and bore the name Independence.

  The staunch Captain Billings commanded the military aspect of the expedition. Thrown in at the last minute by
his old friend Colonel Shepherd, who oversaw the project and remained behind, Pierce was put in overall command of the expedition. He did not know any members of the Independence’s American crew, which included the pilot Joshua Gridley, the engineer, and seven “airmen.” He had only just met Billings and his ten men upon boarding the craft.

  Murunga clung to a bulkhead support and stared out one of the windows at the green grass a hundred feet below. Although his scarred face rarely smiled, his eyes shone with excitement.

  “This is wonderful,” he said.

  “Coming into position, Captain Pierce,” the pilot said as he eased the wheel around.

  “Where's the portal?” Pierce asked. He stepped toward the front, just behind the pilot. Next to him was a polished wood panel, loaded with dials and brass switches. He clasped his hands behind his back to prevent the urge to tap the dials or push one of the levers.

  Gridley glanced over his shoulder at Pierce. “You mean you don't know?”

  Billings chuckled. “He was brought in at the last minute, Gridley. He doesn't know much of anything.”

  Pierce turned to glare at the officer, who immediately lost his pompous grin.

  “Let's just say, Mr. Gridley,” Pierce said, “that I haven't been fully briefed on details. All I know about the Tesla portal is that one has been modified to support this airship. It must be extremely large. Where is it?” He looked out the front widows but saw only pasture.

  A hatch to the upper deck clanged shut and shoes tapped on the rungs of the ladder as someone climbed down to the control room.

  “You're in it, Captain Pierce.”

  The woman pulled an oil-stained cloth from the pocket of her baggy trousers and wiped her hands. She was about thirty, her black hair tied back, wearing a blue blouse with the sleeves rolled back. A belt around her waist carried a leather pouch overflowing with tools. The cuffs of her brown trousers were stuffed into heavy, laced boots.

  “Beg pardon?” Pierce said.

  She walked around him to the panel of controls and began throwing levers. “I said, you're in it. The Tesla portal. This airship is one big Tesla.”

  Because she was American, like the pilot and the rest of the ship's crew, Pierce could ignore her brash behavior. For now.

  “I'm sorry,” Pierce said. “I don't understand. How can an airship be a portal?”

  “Didn't you notice the superstructure?” she asked.

  Pierce recalled his first look at the craft, moored on the pasture. “Oh, you mean the copper tubing on the outside. Sorry, haven't seen many airships. I thought it was typical or just fancy.”

  She glanced from her dials to him, then back to her work. “That's right, you've spent the last ten years in Africa while the rest of the world has been going through a scientific revolution. Well, those aren't copper tubes on the superstructure, they're coils.”

  “Ah, Faraday coils!”

  “Good, so you aren't a complete Neanderthal. Yes, Faraday coils. Instead of a stationary portal, we are portable. We dial in the frequency on this panel, activate the coils, and produce the Tesla field directly in front of the ship. The field runs along the length of the ship, and we pass through to the other side.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” Pierce said. “Did Tesla invent this, too?”

  She shot him a scowl. “Tesla developed the first prototype based on Faraday's experiments. My father modified them to build the actual portals, but had to use Tesla's name in order to patent. This airship modification is my own design.”

  “Impressive,” Pierce said, looking over the interior of the ship. The woman must be brilliant.

  “This,” Billings said, waving a hand at the woman, “is Miss Elizabeth Fletcher. Her father is Elias Fletcher, owner of Fletcher Industries and of the Independence.”

  She wiped her palm on the side of her trouser and shoved her hand out to Pierce. “Liz Fletcher and I own the Independence. Your government just happens to be borrowing it.” She shot a disapproving look at Billings. “I'm also the engineer.”

  Pierce took her hand in a strong shake. “Harrison Pierce. And you are absolutely brilliant.”

  Her blue eyes gave him a serious study before she turned back to her panel, probably weighing whether he was patronizing her or being sincere.

  Pierce clasped his hands behind his back again and watched out the forward windows, which were wider than those running along the sides of the craft. “To produce such a large field, you must need a great deal of energy.”

  “We have a series of batteries that power the Tesla. They recharge from our engines, though it takes a couple of hours.”

  “Isn't electricity dangerous on these airships?” he asked, remembering that the gas was highly combustible. He had read about some terrible accidents over recent years.

  “Not to worry, Captain Pierce,” she said, flashing him a grin. “Independence, unlike any other airship, does not use hydrogen. We won't blow up, at least from a spark.”

  He was about to ask what they used to keep the ship aloft when she began counting backward to zero, threw a larger lever on the panel, and the airship deck vibrated violently. Pierce blinked at the brightness of the sun streaming through the windows. Appearing out of nowhere, in front of the airship, a tall, narrow pole stood. The pilot spun the wheel and the ship eased to the right, barely missing the pole.

  “Where did that come from?” Pierce asked.

  “It's the antenna,” Liz Fletcher said.

  There hadn't been one in the pasture before. Pierce stepped closer to the windows on the left and looked out. Sure enough, there was the aerial, reaching two hundred feet into the air. Below the cruising airship was the lush green of a jungle canopy where moments before had been flat pasture. At the base of the aerial was a small clearing with a small brass rectangle, the Tesla portal the British had installed.

  “Wonderful!” Murunga exclaimed. “Is this truly another world?”

  “Yes, Murunga. It would appear.”

  “It resembles the Congo, but much different.”

  Pierce agreed. Thick jungle, like on their expedition into the Congo, but the greens were more vibrant, something Shepherd's photographs could not relate. In addition, flowers of red and blue bloomed among the trees. Whether they were of the trees themselves or from vines interwoven among the branches, Pierce couldn't tell, but he was anxious to examine them. Just the flora and fauna would take months to catalog, and that wasn't their primary concern.

  “Where is the city?” he asked. If Sam and his expedition had survived, they would have made for that.

  “Getting ourselves oriented,” Liz said. “We are no longer on Earth, so the compass points are different.”

  “I don't think you need to bother, Miss Fletcher,” Billings said. He pointed out the windows on the right side of the control room. “It's over there.”

  Pierce went to the windows and looked out. Murunga followed him, grabbing hold of any strut or support he could find as he crossed the deck, as though he might float away like the airship floated over the green canopy.

  “Not much of a city,” Billings said. “I see only one building.”

  “Yes,” Pierce agreed. “But such a building! Look at the size of it, Billings. We must be two miles away, and it's half that distance in length.”

  The airship rose higher above the thick canopy, and the shape of the building slowly became discernible. It was a huge square, nearly a mile on each side, rising higher than the trees surrounding it, with no visible window or other opening. As the ship gained altitude, an inner square could be seen, an indented area two or three hundred feet on each side, like a large courtyard.

  “Perhaps we could land there,” Pierce said.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Liz said. “Mr. Gridley, take us down.” She uncorked a speaking tube next to the wheel, blew through it, and told crewmembers to ready the moorings.

  “I suggest some of my men be lowered down to investigate the area first,” Billings said. “As a pr
ecaution.”

  “Can we try a more diplomatic approach this time, Billings?” Pierce said. “If there are any people down there, I don't think they would appreciate an armed force knocking at their door. It tends to give the wrong impression.”

  “And if this is a fortification and not just a big storehouse,” Billings said, “they are not going to take kindly to our ship descending on them. Two men lowered down on ropes just to make certain they aren't hostile.”

  “Two men,” Pierce said. “As scouts. Lightly armed. And tell them not to shoot unless they are in grave danger. I don't want them easily frightened by the sight of unearthly creatures.”

  Billings stiffened in indignation. “Captain Pierce, you are speaking of soldiers in Her Majesty's Royal Army. You, above all others on board, should know we are not frightened by anything, earthly or unearthly.”

  “And you, Captain Billings, seem to overlook that I have seen a number of battles and am aware that some men, British included, tend to shoot at things they don't understand. I am merely advising caution.”

  Billings nodded. “As am I.”

  He climbed the ladder to the upper decks, and soon brought down two men dressed in red tunics, with white helmets and belts, Webley revolvers at their hips. Liz Fletcher instructed her crewmen to lower the soldiers on ropes from the open gangway at the rear of the control room. The airship descended, and as the gangway was lowered, hot, humid air rushed into the cabin. The scent of sweet blossoms and rotting vegetation mingled with oil and engine fuel. When the soldiers reached the ground, the airship lifted higher.

  The courtyard was devoid of vegetation. It appeared to be constructed of the same smooth stone-like material as the rest of the building. No windows were in the high walls, but there were some rectangular doors at intervals. The two soldiers crossed to one of the doors and tried to force it open. One man eventually found a catch in the frame, and the door slid into the wall. They both drew their revolvers and disappeared inside.

  A long five minutes later, one man reappeared, his Webley back in its holster. He waved both arms for the airship to land.