Dawn of Steam: Gods of the Sun (33 page)

My love, always,

Gregory Conan Watts

From the private correspondence of the Bowe family, undated

Father,

Being here in Australia brought back old memories, and I thought I'd at least try to write again. I know, since the war, you've been content to let folk think you're some kind of wonder-tale writer. I still don't think everyone is out to see the land just so they can stick their flag on it, though. Even if you don't care none about your books, at least you have to like the spirit of the thing. Trip around the world, bringing back news of everywhere – and now they even have this thing, Gregory calls it a camera, that lets him bring back pictures of places and people. Maybe you'll see some in the papers.

Australia doesn't need any pictures though. Most of it is just the way I remembered it. Sure, a few trading posts here and there since some fellow mapped a mountain pass, but once you get out past the hills, there's just all this space that goes on forever. Up 'til now, all those things you say about the world just getting smaller and smaller the older you got made some sense – but not out here. Keeps seeming like we might find just about anything if we just walk far enough. Not so many people about, but we've stayed with the Koori here and there. I even found one old woman who remembered me some. Kind of wish Gregory and his camera were along for that, keep some kind of record.

Most of the others are resting back in the English colonies in the south. Julietta was the only one up for coming this way with me. I think you'd like her, Dad. I didn't think much of her when we first met, but that wasn't under the best of circumstance. She's powerful accurate with her divination: the darkness, the storms, various. She put an awful fright into the African occultist with the crew we're chasing down too. She hasn't told me much yet whether she could have cursed him or not, but pretty sure he thought she could.

That was about all that was good about that bit of the trip. Not sure that folk shouldn't have brought the Maori the potato and the musket, but I am pretty sure they shouldn't have brought them both at once. After all that, was glad to see Australia, though even here, I got to admit, it was nice to get away from the colonists and see if I remembered Awabakal and Pitjantjatjara as well as I thought. Meanwhile, half the Koori end up talking to us to see if their English is any good.

We'll keep traveling a ways. I'm enjoying showing Julietta some of the land. She's keeping notes, and trying to map some as we go, kind of the way you always used to. I really do think you'd like her. Maybe, when we get back to the American colonies, you'd be okay if I brought her by some time? She loves picking up on stories and legends and all that, so I bet you two would have plenty to talk about.

We're talking some about doing some more traveling when this trip is done. Still a couple years to go – but there's also a lot of world out there we're not going to get to. Either way, I know she wants to get away from the card cheat she'd been traveling with. All the things you used to tell me about folk with loaded dice are true. James always said we needed him. Let's see what he says when he's well. Sooner we're rid of Franzini, the more pleasant the air aboard the ship.

Speaking of James, they still want him in Japan next. Japan! I know you told me some about it, but it'll be exciting to see it for myself. I guess their Shogun is real curious about some of the things they're making in England these days, so we'll get to spend a few days there.

I know there's no way for you to write back. We'll be back in the colonies in a couple years, and probably in England before that. If you want to send word to the Coltrane estates there, maybe you can let me know if it's all right to come visit. Maybe let me know if I can bring Julietta along too. We may not see a lot of things the same, but maybe that's okay. We can disagree some, and still appreciate a lot of the same things too. I've got you to thank for opening up a lot of the world most folk will never see, after all.

Regards,

Sam

From the diaries of Julietta Penn

December 22nd, 1816

We are very far inland now. Far enough for my cowardice? Past mountains, we've forded rivers. Sam insisted on lending me a pair of pants for the process. For once, no one was scandalized.

We're alone. No Koori or Anangu about right now. The place is called Uluru. From what has been said, adding up the blood between the two of us, one white woman has seen it now. I asked Sam about her passing. It seems it's mostly that she doesn't care what people assume. I pointed out she cared when people assumed her father's work fiction. She said it's different. Lying about the world does more harm. She knows who and what she is and doesn't care who else does “unless I feel like sharing.”

There's a change in perspective, having gotten into Sam's pants. She's brought me out into a corner of her world. Who would have thought things could be like this?

Everything changes. People change. Usually it hurts. But Sam is immutably Sam. She can keep me safe.

The rock glows red in the dusk. It's a sacred treaty space. It's safe.

I crossed the cards, my Hermit and my Devil, and read. My fears are there – with the World and its turning – but so is the truth. It has to be told. I'll tell her now.

From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

January 18th, 1817

33º51' S 151º12' E

We have the first news in some time of our wayward travelers. By the most recent word from usual erratic channels, they returned to the western end of the mountains, and should make contact, if their progress is being charted correctly, with the westernmost camps soon. Surely they will have some fascinating accounts of the people and the lands they encountered. Or at least Miss Penn certainly will, being by far the more talkative of the two.

Far from being dissuaded by Sir James's refusal to add new crew and guard to our number, Mr. Franzini has set about recruiting a larger number of mercenaries to his entourage. He has been successful enough in bringing an organized game here that he now owns a stake in one of the area's seedier bars – which, I must say, is quite an appellation given the generally rough character of this land and many of the people. The new free arrivals and ever larger Catholic population settle this somewhat, but it is still quite clearly a land colonized by criminals.

He has hired a number of individuals to help provide the bar, particularly his game, with some amount of security to ensure a fair game. Coming from Mr. Franzini, I am unsure if he has truly decided to try to rely upon the advantage held by the house and truly runs a fair game, or if the added muscle is simply a way to ensure he does not draw too much challenge. So far, he must not yet have run into too many accusations of cheating, for he still draws a considerable crowd, and has begun training two of his fellows to deal cards to expand the operation.

It has gotten to the point now that each time I see him, I begin to wonder if perhaps this next one will be the time he will no longer take no for an answer. I know Sir James and Eddy alike are trying to keep an eye on him, and none of us meet with him alone any longer. Given his shift in demeanor and posture, I begin to wonder if he takes this as some sign of respect.

For whatever reason, he seems to very much be concerned that Miss Penn and Miss Bowe should return. I know he still does not like Miss Bowe a great deal, but I am uncertain if this is the whole of it. Still, the two times now that he has come across us while we were discussing the news of their impending return, he has had to try to hide a look of great distaste, and perhaps, concern. I wish I knew something more of the nature of the conflicts between him and Miss Penn now.

The news – and hint that we might be considering leaving soon – has also cheered Eddy and Miss Wright considerably. While Eddy has taken quite well to Australia, I think now he is trying hard not to get too comfortable here. The closer we get to leaving, the more he seems to remind himself he is not quite ready for retirement to a farmer's life just yet. He has also not yet joined the card games between myself and Sir James again, but has looked in a few times, and his tone towards Sir James has softened somewhat.

We are shortly planning a new journey to visit Dr. Mitchell, for he has not visited in some time, and the last time he did, just the short trip proved most taxing to his weakening constitution. Miss Wright, who now travels with us each time we make the trip, is especially worried. She has become closer to Agnes than the rest of us, and has admitted that the housekeeper does not believe Dr. Mitchell will long survive our trip away from this land, but has fully invested himself in seeing that we have every possible chance in the journey to come. Though I can hope, for the sake of a man's life, that she is wrong, in truth, I think it might be a mercy on the man's unhinged mind to go from this world to the next in peace. I have seen people in worse physical condition make full recoveries, but always under a physician's care and rest.

Dr. Mitchell continues to throw himself into his tasks with a manic passion. Were he in England, he would likely now be institutionalized for his own safety. He has proven no threat to anyone yet, at least. When not at work, he conducts himself with a quiet reservation and all the manners that would be expected of an Oxford man. No one who has not seen him motivated by some new project or technological venture would imagine there could be anything wrong with the man beyond visibly failing health.

Now past the holiday season, and with hints we will be away soon, the Captain has thrown himself into every project that he is permitted. This is his way of recovering, it would seem, now that he is through the worst of the prolonged mourning period that so often accompanies the loss of a companion of so many years. I am uncertain that he shall ever be the same man he was, but now when among men of his generation, he is back to spinning his tales with passion. He now includes several more among his repertoire of tales describing how his saintly wife advised him away from ruinous paths.

He has also recovered enough at last that he has begun allowing at least one thing I can still imagine Mrs. Fisher frowning on – permitting Matthew to begin caring for and carrying his own Baker rifle, his gift from Eddy this past Christmas. Though there has been some discussion of eventually upgrading it to be more the equal of Eddy's own, the mechanisms and cylinders require such care that this has not been permitted yet. Even so, Matthew has been understandably excited about finally having a rifle of his very own.

From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

January 27th, 1817

33º51' S 151º12' E

The first ship in some time has arrived. This time it is not a vehicle of convicts, but only carries free settlers, mostly Catholics loyal to the Pope over the King. The rest are former American colonists seeking a new start elsewhere. It seems each new arrival carries more horror stories of the difficulties of surviving. Some farms have been abandoned entirely, and many people have moved west. Others have traveled to Europe in hopes of finding a new life there.

Relations with Spain have been interesting as well. Florida has been ceded in its entirety to England so the Spanish can concentrate on the rebellion in their main territories – and to try to bribe England into some kind of neutrality. The Crown and Parliament watch both sides in the Spanish conflict with interest, and wait to see if either will entreat them for some help in the conflict.

England's resources and manpower have both been severely taxed. In fact, with the influx of country folk into the city seeking work, there is some talk of restoring the slave trade in order to make sure that the farms of England and its colonies remain in full operation when better growing conditions have been restored. Still, there is no shortage of tactical, mechanical, and economic aid England might be able to offer either side should England be offered the right incentives. Additionally, pressing slaves into service with promises of freedom certainly worked well in the past, and should England re-enter armed conflict, this would be another cause to restore the trade.

This is most vexing. England made some progress by banning the trade, if not the ownership of slaves, a few years past. This reversal may well succeed, via arguments about the importance of feeding our people and of England's preparation to take any opportunity for expansion. Indeed, two years ago, before I ever saw up close the disruption of foreign and primitive but very human lives, I might have dithered much more in the face of such an argument myself.

Though faint, there are also stirrings in the world of politics that conflict with Russia may be coming. That nation had its own difficulties with Napoleon for a time, and it certainly has its own struggles with its neighboring countries. Nevertheless, it did not suffer the losses some nations did in the Napoleonic Wars and is demanding some notice on an international level. It is fortunate that England lies so far from Russian territories, for England is not in any condition to fight another sustained war now – especially while it is missing some of its greatest weapons and heroes. I am certain now that I shall shortly return to spending a great deal of time worrying about what is happening at home while we have no news available to us, even while we are facing difficulties of our own.