Julius and the Watchmaker (9 page)

The professor, Mr Flynn and Julius turned right onto the bridge where more hungry ghosts in the same military coats were standing in line.

‘Why do the Tibetans call them hungry ghosts, Professor?' asked Julius.

‘It describes their natures, I suppose. The inhabitants of this ill-favoured world are always hungry for something, anything—whether it be wealth, power, love, respect, it matters not. The thing is that their desires can never be satisfied. They live tormented by unfulfilled longing for more and more of what they can't have. They become like ghosts, tortured souls who can never simply enjoy each pleasant moment because their hearts are set on the next imagined moment. They don't call themselves hungry ghosts of course. They call themselves “Graacaachs”.'

‘Grackacks?' said Julius, attempting to imitate the professor's pronunciation.

‘Close enough, my boy.'

‘What does that mean, then?'

‘I suppose the closest word in the King's English would be “human”.'

Their conversation was brought to a halt by a series of deafeningly sharp blasts, like thunderclaps, coming from across the river. A flock of black birds flew from their perches on the bridge spikes, forming a seething black cloud. Julius and his companions looked down river where a long cannon-like contraption was positioned in the fore section of one of the steel ships. It was pointing to the sky and pelting out sparks from the muzzle with each blast. Grackacks on the ship were dressed in white uniforms. They held their hands over their ears as the cannon pounded away.

‘There, do you see? They're firing into the vortex, not that it will do them any good,' shouted the professor above the din.

‘Why are they firing at it?'

‘They see it as a threat, Julius. In their minds anything new or different is viewed with suspicion and fear. Their suspicions will not have been helped if that poor soul from the Thames reported his experience to the authorities. They probably assume that the human realm is preparing to invade them. So, as you see, they are firing their machine cannons at the centre of the anomaly in the hope of stopping whatever is to come.'

‘I see.'

‘It is time to act, gentlemen,' said the professor, looking up at the vortex. ‘If we plug the hole while the Grackacks are firing at it, so much the better. They will assume they were successful. The only problem is…'

‘You're not close enough, Professor. You'll never have enough power to disrupt the dual vibration event from here,' said Mr Flynn.

‘Precisely, Danny. We'll have to get to higher ground to get closer,' said the professor, looking up at the spikes on the bridge.

‘If we climbed to the highest tower in this infernal city we'd still not be close enough, Professor,' replied Mr Flynn.

The professor stood completely still, his eyes flicking back and forth from the spikes to the whirlpool in the clouds.

Julius opened his mouth to say something, but Mr Flynn shushed him. ‘Hwist, young fella, he's thinking,' he whispered as he leaned closer to Julius. ‘He's doing some calculations, right now. We'll have to wait.'

For two agonisingly long minutes Julius and Mr Flynn stood beside the professor, while the Grackacks blasted away at the vortex and soldiers rushed back and forth across the bridge. Suddenly the professor let out a long breath. ‘You won't like it, I fear, Danny.'

‘I hate it when you say that, Professor.'

‘I've been calculating the safest distance we can be from the vortex and still be close enough for my watch to disrupt the dual vibration.'

‘And…?'

‘Two hundred and eighty-seven feet, give or take, is the optimum distance, gentlemen. I'm afraid we'll have to purloin one of their gyroflyers.'

Mr Flynn's shoulders slumped. ‘Remember what happened the last time you tried to fly one of those, Professor?'

‘I do Danny, I still have the twinge in my knee to remind me—but that was years ago. I have a much better grasp of the whole thing now.'

‘Well it's all academic 'til we can half-inch one anyway, Professor.'

‘What's a gyroflyer?' shouted Julius, just as the machine cannon stopped firing. They stood still for a moment to savour the quiet, then a fast ticking sound came from across the river. It grew louder. Julius looked towards the sound to see a small machine flying away from a line of zettmalins tethered on long cables further along the riverbank.

‘That's a gyroflyer, Julius,' said Mr Flynn, as the machine drew closer. Its sharp rattling sound cut through the air as it flew across the river, following an erratic course like a dizzy bumblebee. Julius could make out a Grackack seated under what he could only describe as circle of vibrating air. He stared open mouthed straining to take in every detail.

‘Come on, young fella,' said Mr Flynn, tapping him on the shoulder. ‘I think I know where we can get one of those things.'

CHAPTER 9

Thursday 6th July, 1837
4:41 AM

Julius, Mr Flynn and the professor ran across the bridge, dodging the military manoeuvres, and headed further down the river. Dawn was approaching as they arrived at an expanse of open ground adjoining the docks. Tethered on long steel cables were line after line of zettmalins high in the sky like giant elongated balloons. Beneath them buzzed gyroflyers of varying sizes. Grackacks were swarming over grounded gyroflyers and other contraptions with tools and oils cans in their long thin hands. An aroma of oil and steel hung in the air, and the ground under Julius's feet hummed in answer to the spinning propellers of the airships.

‘Wow,' exclaimed Julius as he held his arms out to catch the breeze of the propellers.

‘Wow, indeed, Julius. They are preparing for a very, very big battle,' said the professor. He headed for an unattended gyroflyer. ‘We'll use this three-seater, I think, Danny.'

Julius stared open mouthed at the machine before him. It was the size of a carriage, with three seats in a row along its front. Three small wheels spread out like a tripod beneath it, and behind the seats was an array of cogs, wheels and gears made of brass and steel. Rising out of the top of this configuration was a shiny brass shaft topped by two long slender propeller blades.

‘The blades rotate, Julius. This produces lift and the propeller at the back produces a rather ill-defined forwards motion,' said the professor, as he cast his eyes over the cogs and gears.

‘So…how does it…?'

‘How does it fly? It's much the same as a watch in many ways. You wind it up and the wheels and pinions turn to make the minute and hour hands turn. The gyroflyer is no different, in that respect, except of course that the “hour and minute hands” turn at incredible speeds and allow one to fly like a bird.'

‘More like a blind beetle, if you ask me, Professor,' said Mr Flynn.

‘Anyway, Julius, there's no time to lose; it is wound and ready to go. Sit yourselves down, strap yourselves in and I'll release the stopper.'

‘Well, hop in, young fella,' said Mr Flynn, as he scooped Julius up and into a seat. He buckled him in and tossed the carpetbag on his lap. The professor strapped himself into the middle seat and, finally, Mr Flynn squeezed in and held the professor's cane for him. The watch remained spinning above the professor's hand and the blue glow grew to surround the flying machine.

The professor leaned forward and reached under the seat with his other hand. He pulled on a lever and straightened up again as a brass arm rose up in front of them. At the top of the arm was a small barrel made of polished wood with many small levers and buttons arranged on it and a small brass plate with an insignia of two wings stretching out from a cog. There was a single dial at its centre.

‘That's the stopper,' said the professor, pointing at a small, red-handled lever. He rubbed his hands together and then placed his right hand around a hand-grip in the brass arm just below the barrel. Carefully positioning the whole apparatus so that it fitted comfortably between his knees, the professor tried to suppress a chuckle.

‘Are we ready, gentlemen? Chocks away!' he said as he pulled on the red-handled lever.

The assortment of gears and wheels behind their seats whirred into action. The whole contraption shook violently; the noise was deafening as the blades above their heads spun so fast that Julius could not see them anymore. He strained to look over his shoulder. The cogs and wheels behind him were spinning so fast that they too were a blur.

‘Needs a little adjustment,' said the professor, fiddling with the levers and buttons while keeping an eye on the several bemused Grackacks approaching.

‘We'd better take off soon, Icarus,' said Mr Flynn. ‘They can't see us yet, but if we sit still for much longer they will.'

‘Nearly there, Danny,' replied the professor. ‘Hold onto your hats. We have lift off !'

The professor pulled back on the brass arm and the whole apparatus lifted into the air. The Grackacks in the area rushed to what they thought was a malfunctioning gyroflyer lifting off of its own accord. Julius screamed and fought the urge to be sick as the gyroflyer lurched and bobbed about thirty feet above the ground.

‘It's all in the wrist,' said the professor as he moved the arm to the left. The gyroflyer lurched and dived back towards the ground. The three passengers let out the cries of people facing imminent death, until the professor pulled back on the arm and the machine shot up towards the zettmalins and the steel cables securing them to the ground.

‘Turn left. Left,' shouted Julius.

A steel cable loomed ahead of them. It would cut then in two in a moment.

Julius covered his face with his hands and screamed.

The professor laughed as the craft swerved to the left. ‘Ha, ha. I'm getting the hang of it now,' he said, nearly tipping his passengers out of their seats.

‘Don't do that again, Professor,' called out Mr Flynn, as they flew towards the river.

Julius peeked out between his fingers. He felt a warm liquid on his upper legs and was thankful for the carpetbag covering his lap.

‘Fear not, Danny, I have it now. It's steady as she goes all the way to the vortex. We'll chart a course up the river, I think,' said the professor, as the gyroflyer lurched an erratic path away from the zettmalin cables.

The river and the steel ships were far below and getting smaller. Julius gripped his seat tight. The wind seemed to be trying to prise him from the machine, and he did not completely trust the leather strap that was holding him in. He dared not move for fear of disturbing the delicate balance of the flying contraption.

The sun was showing a narrow band of fiery red on the horizon, which, along with the stormy clouds, lit the Grackack city with an eerie amber hue. For miles ahead Julius saw closely huddled buildings. There did not seem to be any plan to the streets and there were no parks or trees. Large buildings of stone and steel rose out of the confusion of the smaller buildings like monsters ready to devour everything around them.

As they flew closer to the vortex, the machine cannons below started firing at them. They could hear the projectiles whistling past.

‘Let's make this quick, Professor,' shouted Mr Flynn above the din.

‘Good idea,' said the professor, drawing the gyro-flyer to a halt just below the whirlpool of cloud. ‘Danny, Julius, your assistance is required. Hold the control-arm to keep us in position while I prepare the watch.'

Julius and Mr Flynn leaned in and gripped the control-arm. ‘That's it, steady, steady. Don't allow any movement. We must be as still as a rock in the desert if I am to make this work.'

Julius felt like anything but a rock in the desert as he gripped the control-arm. For thousands of feet below there was nothing but air holding him up. All around was useless open sky. Above them was a maelstrom involving not one but two realms, and, to cap things off, the very creatures they were trying to help were intent on shooting them out of the sky.
If you get out of this, Higgins, you'll never complain about anything ever again as long as you live
, thought Julius.

The professor tapped the pocketwatch, which was still hovering above his hand. A tiny drawer opened from its side. The front of this drawer lowered and another drawer extended from that. Then the sides of this drawer opened out like a napkin being unfolded to reveal rows and rows of tiny buttons. The professor pressed various buttons with the tip of his forefinger. He then sat back in his seat and took a deep breath before tapping the watch again.

The watch began to vibrate violently. ‘Hold tight, gentlemen,' the professor said as a ray of orange light shot from the top of the timepiece. It went through the dome of blue light and into the centre of the maelstrom. ‘If my calculations are correct the optical oscillation of the orange light particles will cause a disruption in the dual vibration field and we will be back to two separate and happy realms before breakfast time.'

‘Excellent,' said Mr Flynn.

‘What's that dial for, Professor?' said Julius, as he held tightly to the control-arm and studied the levers and buttons that were holding him in the air.

‘That tells us how much time we have before we need to rewind the gyroflyer.'

‘If the hand is near the left of the dial does that mean it is a lot of time or a little time?'

The professor and Mr Flynn peered at the dial. ‘Good gracious. It mustn't have been fully wound when we started. Well spotted, Julius. Usually you could count on a few hours in the air, depending on the model.'

‘So how much time do we have before…?'

‘Before the blades slow down?' said Mr Flynn. ‘Not much more than ten minutes, I'd say, and then it's a rapid descent into the river, young fella.'

‘Not to worry, gentlemen,' said the professor, looking worried. ‘We'll have done our work here in a few minutes. If our friends below don't shoot us out of the sky first, we will have enough time to make our escape.'