Read The Steampunk Trilogy Online

Authors: Paul Di Filippo

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General

The Steampunk Trilogy (9 page)

Agassiz was slack-jawed. He had never heard such a farfetched load of occult claptrap before. Realizing that such an unstable character could be quite dangerous if provoked, he resolved to humor him while praying that one of his comrades would soon come to his rescue.

“Why,” said Agassiz loudly, hoping to wake someone, “should this T’guzeri come to America?”

“Ach, good question. Dottie informs me dot dere are zertain places of zpecial power in dis vorld, und only here can certain rituals be consummated. Dot vas anudder reason vie your Cuvier failed. Und vun of dese places ist here, in dis very state.”

Agassiz eyed the door. Where was Desor when one needed him? He was supposed to be continually attentive—“Granted all this, why do you come to me?”

“You are Cuvier’s zientific heir, und bear der responsibility for his deeds. It ist your moral obligation to help zet right vot he ztarted. Und you are a man of zome influence here, und can zpeed up der zearch.”

Still desperately playing for time, Agassiz said, “I assume you brought along that creature with you for some good reason. Perhaps her animal skills will assist you in tracking down her fellow savage? Can they smell one another at a distance?”

Cezar turned toward the Hottentot and smiled deeply at her. She returned his affectionate expression.

“Oh, zhure, dere’s a little of dot. But I chust couldn’t ztand to leave her for zo long.

“You zee, Dottie ist mine
frau
.”

3

WHALE BONES

W
HEN A PUFFER
fish—
Canthigaster valentini
,
say—is pulled from the water, its immediate and instinctive reaction is to swallow enough air to turn itself into a startling balloon shape meant to deter a potential predator. Should this boast prove unconvincing and the predator essay a taste of its prey, the puffer will die—if not happily, then at least content—knowing full well that the deadly tetrodotoxin in its cells will exact a full measure of revenge.

Doctor Louis Agassiz, pulled from the calm waters of his assumptions about the master-slave relationship between the South African and the Hottentot, now swelled up and began to spew his triumphant poison at the heinous pair.

Shooting to his feet, unconsciously dropping the bedclothes that had shielded his nudity—the better to gesticulate wildly—his normally florid complexion reddening to a positively psittacine shade, the veins in his forehead beating like tribal drums, Agassiz thundered out his righteous condemnation.

“By God and all that’s holy, sir, as I am a Christian born and bred, raised in a household of virtue, I brand you as a despicable traitor to your race! How could you! How could you pollute yourself so, and lower the stature of the white race in the eyes of this creature and her no doubt insolent and insurrectionary fellows! By such brutish miscegenation, by catering to your basest lusts this way, you have placed in jeopardy not only your own country, but also four thousand years of civilization, of mankind’s struggle upward from the slime! Go! Leave this house as you came, with darkness covering your foul and iniquitous shame!”

As Agassiz finished his fervent peroration a sound of hurrying footsteps manifested itself outside his bedroom. At last, rescue!
Citoyens, aux armes
!

The door burst open, revealing the other members of the scientific establishment, all be-weaponed and ready to defend their leader. Pourtales brandished his trusty alpenstock, while Girard wielded a fearsome microtome. Burckhardt flourished an agressive palette knife, and Sonrel waved a formidable engraving tool. Barely visible behind the foursome crouched Desor, peeping under the uplifted arms of the front ranks.

Cezar seemed undaunted by the reinforcements, as did the Hottentot Dottie, who remained squatting by the window. The hefty Capetowner regarded the poised rescuers calmly, then returned his gaze to Agassiz.

“Vot a bunch of narrow-minded barbarians. . . .”

Agassiz swallowed more air. “Knave! Will you depart on your own, or shall I have my men forcibly eject you!”

“Professor Agassiz, I do not like you now, dough I vas not prechudiced against you before. Yet I need your help to recover mine mudder-in-law’s remains, before dey are used to make a wrongness. If you vill not give me your help voluntarily, den I must coerce it. I know you have ingratiated yourzelf vit the American zientists and public, who all imagine you are zo perfect. Vell, vot vould dey zay if dey knew dot der man who taught you everything you know und who first zponsored you vas an occultist? I imagine der penny-papers vould have a field-day vit the news. Perhaps der
Cambridge Chronicle
or der
Christian Examiner
,
zay? Und der academic community. . . .”

Generally speaking, the puffer fish may take as many as five minutes to deflate once the attack has ceased.

Agassiz collapsed in thirty seconds.

Sinking back down into his chair, the naked naturalist feebly signaled his comrades to drop their aggressive postures. They complied, casting speculative looks over the improbable scene.

Upon hearing Cezar’s threat, Agassiz had been swept by a vision of all his careful plans, his dreams of glory and advancement in the New World, coming to naught, undermined by the insane yet lethal charges which the man seemed prepared to press. Public opinion, that tyrant, could not be trifled with. Agassiz realized in a flash that he had no option but to collaborate with the Capetowner—however repugnant and treasonous to the white race his mating habits might be—and hope that he would soon remove himself from Agassiz’s life.

“Very well,” said Agassiz weakly. “You have impressed me with the justice of your cause, and I will do what I can to help. But for God’s sake, let us save further discussion till the morning. Edward—”

Danger obviously past, Desor scuttled to the forefront of the watchers.

“Please put up Mister Cezar and his—aboriginal companion—in the spare room.”

“Very good, Professor.”

Agassiz was soon left alone. He managed to summon up a shadow of his traditional decisiveness.

One way or another, he would end this whole affair as soon as possible. And when the foreigner and his ape-bride were gone, he would burn all the linens, towels and carpets they had touched, and possibly several pieces of furniture as well, depending on what kind of scent-marking habits the Negro revealed.

In the morning, after a restless period of semi-unconsciousness plagued by unrecallable but decidedly unpleasant phantasms, Agassiz joined his team at the communal breakfast table. Jane’s peasant disposition had enabled her to sleep soundly through the entire contretemps after she had retired, post-fornication, to her own room, and she now moved swift as a sparrow (
Spizella pusilla
) about the kitchen, serving platters of johnny-cakes, scrambled eggs and crayfish (
Orconectes limosus
)
to the appreciative scientists. Somewhat disconcerted at first by the uncouth appearance of the Hottentot, Jane had quickly adapted to her presence, remarking that “she’s got better table manners than that heathen Mister Alcott.”

Agassiz said little during the breakfast, all the while sorting through his limited options regarding the South African. Cezar, meanwhile, regaled the others with the rousing tale of his storm-tossed voyage in the
Sie Koe
from the Cape of Good Hope to Boston, his only crew the tireless Hottentot. By meal’s end, he had charmed them all.

When his subordinates had left to begin the day’s work, Agassiz found himself confronting the Capetowner and his subhuman mate. The Negro smiled at Agassiz and said, “Good meal.” She then produced from somewhere beneath her skirt a small bone-handled knife and began to pick her teeth.

Agassiz nearly gagged. He hastily rose and moved to a chair by the hearth, gesturing for Cezar to follow him.

“We must discuss our plans,” began Agassiz.

“Ja, to be zhure. But first I must dell you about due men who alzo figure in dis affair. I did not get der chance last night, because of your intemperate outburst.”

Agassiz made a dismissive gesture. “Go on then.”

“You have heard perhaps of Thaddeus Kosciuszko?”

“Of course. The Polish patriot who fought on the Americans’ side during their Revolution. What of him?”

“Vere you avare dot he had a zun?”

“No.”

“Vell, it’s zo. During his vanderings after he vas exiled from Poland, ven der uprising of 1794 failed, Thaddeus stayed vit many nationalist und revolutionary groups around der vorld. He visited der Owenites in Zcotland und America, der Carbonari in Italy, der Fourierists in France und der Philike Hetairia in Greece. But he felt most at home vit der Irish patriots in Dublin. It vas among dese latter dot he fathered a child, a boy named Feargus.”

“Feargus Kosciuszko?”

“Ja. You are zhure you never heard of him? No? Vell, in any case, der zun is now dhirty years old, und active in both Ireland und Poland. He fought in der Polish uprisings of both 1830 und last year, und lately he has been trying to zuccor der ztarving Irishmen zuffering from der potato blight. But dis is all incidental. Vot is really important is dot der young Kosciuszko is a believer in Polish Messianism.”

Agassiz reluctantly admitted his ignorance of this movement.

“Vell, der Polish Messianism vas propagated mainly by Andrei Towianski, who lived in exile in Paris until 1842, ven der French Archbishop expelled him as a drubblemaker, and der poet Adam Mickiewicz. Dey formed an organization called Der Vork of God, vhich maintained dot Poland vas ‘der Christ of nations,’ whose zufferings vere meant to redeem all mankind. Dey elaborated dis belief vit many zupernatural trappings. In fact, Towianski studied vit vun of der Martinists, der painter Joseph Oleszkiewicz.”

“I fail to see what all this Polish hocus-pocus has to do with your stolen fetiche.”

“Ach, it’s zimple. Kosciuszko has heard of der fetiche und, realizing its potential power, has decided to dry to obtain it in der hopes of using it to liberate his people. My zources tell me he is now in Massachusetts.”

“All right. It seems implausible, but I’ll assume you know the players in this affair. Who is the other person?”

“Ach, dot one ist Hans Bopp!”

“The German philologist from the University of Berlin who collaborates with the Grimm Brothers? That’s ridiculous. I’ve met the man, and he’s a mild-mannered scholar—”

“No, dot’s Franz Bopp. Hans ist his brudder, und a chiraffe of a different color! Hans ist der ruthless head of your Prussian patron Frederick’s zecret police, murderer of more innocents den dyphoid und yellow fever put together! Und vot’s more, he’s der last surviving Deutonic Knight!”

“Come now! Them I’ve heard of. And I know for a fact that the Teutonic Knights are no more. For all practical purposes they died out in 1525, when Albert of Brandenburg accepted the Reformation. Although I believe something called the Teutonic Order existed until just a few decades ago—

“Ach, dot’s vot everyone believes! But der druth is dot not all der Knights accepted Albert’s decision. Branding him a draitor, zum kept der old vows made first during der Crusades, und dey formed a hidden core in der organization. Dey never gave up der notion of reconquering Prussia, vhich had vunce been deres. Death and disaffection have vittled avay all but one, Hans Bopp. Und now he dinks he zees the key to making der age-old dream come drue, in der form of Saartjie’s pickled quim.”

Agassiz looked nervously around, but Jane was not present. “Please, sir, watch your language! I realize that your own ‘wife’ is a savage, but there is another woman in the house, even if she is a servant.”

Cezar winked. “Vimmen are vorse den men in zuch matters, if druth be dold. But vee are getting avay from der topic. Bopp ist now in America also. He has convinced his king dot he ist on der drail of Kosciuszko—und in druth, he does hate all Poles, for der defeat dey handed der Knights at Dannenberg in 1410—but in reality, he ist intent on capturing der dalisman for himzelf!”

Agassiz’s head was spinning. “Let me restate what you have told me. A Hottentot sorcerer, possessed of a magical relic which must be activated somewhere in my adopted state, is being pursued by a Polish-Irish halfbreed and a medieval Crusader, all of whom we must circumvent in order to recover the relic first.”

“Pree-zisely!”

Agassiz narrowed his eyes on the burly man. “How do you come to know all this, living at the ends of the earth as you do?”

“Ach, Professor Agassiz, I am not a ztupid man, und ven events impinge on me und mine country, I attempt to learn all I can. Chust because I live on der edge of Kaffraria, do not imagine dot I am cut off from information. Dis vorld is not as large a place as it vunce vas. Ven a steamship can bridge der Atlantic in nineteen days, ven dousands of miles of drain-dracks crisscross der globe, ven der darkest corners of der vorld are beginning to be lit by der arc lamps of science, as zpearheaded by zuch brilliant men as yourzelf—vell, den even a zimple farmer like old Jacob Cezar can learn vot he has to.”

Agassiz swelled up like a pigeon (
Columba fasciata
).
“It’s true, people like myself are invaluable in lifting the world out of its ignorance—You know, you seem like a reasonable man, Jacob. Could we not discuss the ethics of racial purity—? I see not. Well, perhaps you’ll relent some day. Meanwhile, I suppose we should get busy.”

Agassiz summoned Jane back to the kitchen with an imperious shout, his usual mode of command. She returned with a flushed face.

“Lor’, sir, I wish you’d speak to Mister Desor about that wicked tongue of his! The tales he’s been telling me—I know they’re all factual, but it don’t hardly seem decent for a lady to hear them. For instance, did you know that your average whale has a male member ten feet long?”

Cezar winked at Agassiz, as if to say,
Zee, I told you zo
.
Agassiz grew annoyed.

“Please, enough of such trivial chatter! Jane, you must put aside your normal chores this morning, since we have a tremendous task for you. Observe this—this tribal creature. I need you to bathe it and clothe it so that it is fit to be seen on the streets of Boston.”

“Very good, sir. Does she have a proper name?”

Agassiz brushed off the question. “Bah! That’s of no matter.”

Cezar spoke up. “Of course der lady does. Dottie ist her name.”

“Oh, how sweet. I’ve a cousin named Dottie, back in Letchworth. Well, help me get some water boiling, Dottie, and we’ll drag out the old tin tub.”

“Let us retire to my study, Jacob, and leave Jane to her formidable task. We must discuss our plans and methods.”

In the atelier, Agassiz was about to outline the limits of his cooperation, when he was preempted by Cezar.

“Vie must you be zo cruel to mine vife, Louis? Don’t you zee dot Dottie ist chust as perceptive und zensitive as you or I? Zhe understands quite a bit of English, you know, und even if zhe can’t follow you vord for vord, zhe can ztill zense your emotions und be hurt. Perhaps if you knew her whole ztory—

“Dottie vas born der year before her mudder left for Europe und given under der care of an aunt. Dot vornan had been mine own vet-nurse.”

Agassiz repressed a shudder. He must exert every ounce of the self-control that had enabled him to study all night while his peers ranged through the beer-halls of Munich. . . .

“I vas five years old at der dime, und, vit mine fodder gone und mine mudder dead from der bite of a horned snake, vas vunce more in der care of mine old nurse. Dot meant dot Dottie und I vere raised together like ziblings.

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