The Sensaurum and the Lexis Read online

  Also important were the Spice Islands, another nation at the furthest reaches of the world. This was the place where peppers and other exotic flavourings were grown. In addition, there existed many other nations and states, all vying to be the strongest on the globe. Alliances were made and broken between all of them as governments changed; so that it was difficult to know with any certainty who was currently a friend and who an enemy.

  War was cited as the greatest spur to technological development, yet wars and aggressive governance was becoming less common. At least on the part of Norlandia, largely due to the influence of a women’s group, the Ladies who Lunch, which had started life in a Cofé house. Appalled at the waste of life and the lack of compassion shown to those affected by war, they had set out to change the world, led by a senior minister’s wife called Aphra Claringbold. They campaigned for the rights of those left behind, the peaceful settlement of disputes and dignity for all. There had been initial resistance from men but using their femininity as a weapon, they found it to be just as effective as any gas-gun.

  Jackson even found these lectures interesting, as they explained the purpose and reasoning behind the people he now worked for, after all, if foreigners wished to disrupt his way of life, a defence was essential.

  At the end of each part of his training, there were all sorts of tests, of memory, of dexterity, of going around the orphanage and finding objects left or hidden. Of reading maps, secret writing and how to see if you were. To his surprise, he found them enjoyable and passed each one with ease. In his mind, he was halfway outside already. The problem was that he had doubts about running away as soon as he was able. Over the weeks, he had come to know and respect all the other agents, as well as his instructors, from the nameless ones to Langdon himself. He was beginning to feel guilty for wanting to leave. ‘Perhaps I shall do a little work for them first,’ he thought, ‘spy out a proper escape route rather than just run.’

  Then one day, Jessamine was present again when he arrived in the classroom. She was her old cheerful self. “Hello, Jackson,” she greeted him. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you for a few days, I have been on a special job for Sir Mortimer, it required all my attention to prepare and carry out, hence my behaviour. I had to distance myself from all acquaintances and play a part. All is done now and I’m ready to be part of the group again.” He noticed that she walked as though injured.

  “Have you hurt your legs?” he asked. She shook her head.

  “No, I’m just a little sore from my exertions. Worry not, I will be fit enough to spar, and beat you by tomorrow.”

  A man called Henderson was taking that morning’s lesson; he was discussing new advances in the science of statics, a study of the forces produced by magnetic metals. “Like the ship’s compass?” asked Vyner. “We know all that.”

  “Yes, but do you know this?” Henderson replied. “Watch closely, I have a piece of magnetic metal here.” He produced a lump of a dark substance and laid it on the table. “Now we all know that magnets attract some materials,” he took a container from the desk, “these are filings of iron.” He placed the magnet under a sheet of glass and tipped the filings on top. They immediately formed a circular pattern on the glass. “You can see the direction of the forces,” he said. “Now scientists have found that if a coil of copper wires is placed in this pattern and the magnet rotated, the force transfers to the wires.”

  “How, through thin air?” demanded Alyious.

  Henderson lifted a small mechanism from under the desk. “This is a cylinder of magnetic iron on a shaft,” he explained. “Around it, yet not touching, you can see the coiled wire.” The two ends of the coil were bare and protruding from the ends of the coil. “You,” he indicated Jackson, “hold the wires tightly, one in each hand.” He pointed at Vyner. “If you would like to crank the magnet when he has them held firm.”

  Jackson spent the next half hour massaging his hands. As soon as Vyner had cranked, he had received a tingling jolt that sent him staggering across the room.

  Henderson grinned. “That is the power of statics,” he said to laughter.

  “How is it possible to gain so much energy from such a small mechanism?” asked Vyner.

  “A good question and one that I cannot answer, what I can say is this. The latest thinking is that statics will revolutionise our lives, there are many applications, we can turn the magnet using steam, much as the engine of a flying machine works by a spinning fan in hot gas, or by water power, as a mill wheel. The real expert is not I but Mr Thorogood, who works in the room below.”

  At last, Jackson was to meet Mr Oswald Thorogood. Jessamine accompanied him down to the room he used, she called it his laboratorium. “I need to ask Oswald something,” she had said. “I will take you down to meet him, and rescue you if he talks too much.”

  Jackson felt he knew Oswald already, from Jessamine’s description and what he had heard the others say. It was plain that they all regarded him with affection, but more than that, they showed real concern over his shyness and tendency to babble or talk in a language they could not understand. They were not mocking, as Jackson had expected, but sympathetic to his character.

  And they appeared to be right about the man himself. As he entered the basement, Jackson could see that Oswald indeed lived a troglodyte’s existence, next to the room where Jackson was recruited. In there were all manner of scientific apparatus, arranged in haphazard piles. The air smelt vaguely of burning sulphur and of Thorogood himself.

  He was dressed in a worn suit, several sizes too voluminous, with small, blackened holes in the sleeves and trouser legs. His black tie bore stains, maybe of soup or some other substance. He had two tufts of white hair, one located over each ear, glasses so thick that they might have been the bottoms of bottles, behind them the eyes were distorted in shape, bright and twinkling. He shook Jackson’s hand in a distracted manner, glancing nervously around.

  “I’m honoured to meet you,” said Jackson. “Are you the one who invented the gloves?”

  “Ahh… not invented,” Oswald replied. “Since I cannot really claim a theft from nature, shall we say borrowed? I merely deduced how the arachnid climbs and replicated it. Of course, we cannot turn it on and off, as the creature can, but it works in the same way.”

  The basement room was lit, not by gaslight but by a row of bright globes, suspended on chains from the ceiling. The light was blue-white, compared to the yellow of the gas flame.

  “The illuminations, how do they work?” asked Jackson.

  “They use what has become known as the Wasperton-Byler effect,” replied the scientist. “A form of the new science known as statics. Steam from the house supply is used to spin a magnet, in a coil of metal wires. It somehow produces this effect. I don’t understand the why of it, nobody does, but it works.”

  Jackson had never heard of such a thing before today, the jolt his arms had received testified to the power of this new force. If it could be made to light rooms, what else might it do?

  “I can’t believe you don’t understand it,” said Jessamine. Oswald blushed and turned his head away.

  “Why the name?” asked Jackson.

  “The Minister of Sciences who found it was called Millicent Wasperton. Legend has it that a man called Byler was her lover, not a stretch of the imagination, she had many, and all of them people of influence.” He looked wistfully around as he spoke of lovers. “Between them, they produced the mechanism. Apart from the coil and the magnet we know nothing of its principles. As you can see, the case is sealed; they trust me to know its workings, but no other. They were a secretive pair and it’s only just becoming well known, but I foresee a revolution, equal to the industrial one that steam power wrought, once it catches on.”

  “Alyious mentioned something called a Lexiograph,” Jackson said. “It sounded improbable. How does it work?”

  Oswald looked pleased. “I can explain it easily,” he said. “It’s all to do with the shape of sound waves in air. E
ach word has its own form; my machine merely traces it on a moving paper, in the first part of the transcribing operation.” He paused for breath.

  Before he could speak again Jessamine interrupted the conversation. “If I can ask; before you start Oswald running, I need some supplies.” She handed him a list. “Can you send these up to my room please?”

  Oswald looked and flushed. What could Jessamine want that would make him react so? Before he could ask, Oswald said, “Of course, I can get them now, excuse me a moment.” He turned and went through a small door, leaving them alone together.

  “They are supplies of women’s things,” she said, “and sundries to refill my belt, like the healing patch I used on you. It is your own task to replenish the contents every time you use something.”

  Oswald returned with a small bag, which he handed over. “Here we are,” he said. “Another three months’ supply, and everything else you wanted.”

  “Thank you,” she said, she bent to kiss his cheek, causing the flush again. “I will leave you to finish your explanation to Jackson, goodnight.” She swept out.

  “A fine woman,” Oswald said, gazing at the doorway. “Now then, where was I?”

  “The Lexiograph, you told me the first part, where the words move a pen and draw a shape.”

  “Ah yes, well after that the shape is translated into text, ’tis better if I show you.”

  Oswald took him into the room where the secretaries worked, where the notes were posted through the door. The room was filled with a huge device, looking like the steam organ Jackson knew from chapel and the fairground. Except that this one was laid on its side and in place of a keyboard, had a row of small pins, under which a long belt passed. There were brass rods and pistons, a fine sheen of lubricant made all the metal parts gleam. The other end of the belt emerged from a box with a speaking trumpet on its side, with a seat for an operator. “The Lexiograph,” announced Oswald, “my own invention. Watch closely.” He turned the steam on and the belt started to move.

  “You speak into the trumpet and a groove is made on the belt by a pen,” Oswald said. “The belt then passes into the second part of the Lexiograph, where this mark is read by the pins, which press onto the belt under pressure. Their movement corresponds to the shape of the groove, itself a representation of the word spoken. Hence links are moved, a printing system is activated, words are printed on the page. Finally, the groove on the belt is smoothed by rollers, the belt then passes back into the first part, ready to be marked again.”

  “May I?” Jackson asked. Oswald nodded.

  Jackson bent to the trumpet. “What should I say?” he asked in a whisper. There was a muted clicking, a hiss of steam. Oswald went to the back of the machine. He returned with a sheet of parchment.

  ‘What should I say’ was inscribed on it in the finest copperplate.

  Jackson was stunned; the script was more perfect than any he had seen from any mechanical writer.

  “It needs a lot of work,” said Oswald, “to make it smaller for one thing, and improve the recognition, it works best when tuned to one person’s voice. And punctuation, spacing, all the nuances of speech. But I have made a start; the possibilities that can be developed from the principles are endless.”

  “It’s amazing, truly, I thought it a silly idea, after all we have mechanical writers; now I have seen the product, well, this should be on show for everyone to wonder at.”

  “It will be,” said Oswald, “just as soon as I have worked out how to get it from this room.”

  Chapter 5

  One day, Fairview announced that the first part of his training was at an end. “Now you will be thoroughly tested, to see how much information you have retained,” he said. Jackson was kept in the classroom while everyone else was dispersed to other tasks. They all shouted ‘good luck’ as they departed.

  Fairview, Langdon and a man he had never seen before then sat in front of him. For the next three hours, he was questioned about everything he had been taught.

  He found the experience both unnerving and pleasing, he had not anticipated such a concentrated grilling, had considered the regular testing to be all he would have to endure, so was unprepared for the barrage of questions. They were relentless in their probing, teasing out his knowledge and making him apply it in a variety of situations. He began to sweat and had to force himself to concentrate.

  Yet it was also pleasing; to his surprise and relief, he was able to answer most of what they asked, only faltering twice, once when asked about interrogation and again on his actions if taken to an alehouse by a man who was becoming suspicious of him. In the end, Langdon said, “We are finished, please wait outside.”

  He left the room, standing in the corridor. Jessamine came past; she took his hand. “Are you waiting to hear?”

  “I am,” he admitted, revelling in the contact. He had missed Jessamine, although the others had been attentive, too much so at times. He enjoyed her company best. He trusted her; perhaps he could ask why Capricia and Winnifred were always so close, why they teased him so.

  “You will be fine, of that I’m sure,” she said. “You can tell me all about it later.”

  “Come back in, Jackson,” shouted Langdon.

  She kissed his cheek. “Good luck.”

  Hoping he was not blushing, he re-entered the room and sat. The three gazed at him. “We have considered,” the quiet man said.

  “No need to keep the lad in suspense for any longer, Quinby.” Langdon smiled at Jackson. “Congratulations, Jackson, you have passed all your initial testing. We now require you to swear an oath of loyalty, before we proceed to the next part of your training.”

  Jackson was made to stand in front of the Norlandian flag and handed a card. “Read the words and mean them,” Langdon said.

  “I promise, on pain of death,” Jackson swore, “to serve Norlandia, to honour its sovereign and legally appointed government, to the utmost of my strength, all my days. To never divulge secrets entrusted to me, to care for my companions and to uphold all that is right.”

  The three clapped. “Then you are one of us.”

  That night there was a small celebration in the Gymnazien. Food and drink had been laid on and as many of the group were there as Jackson had seen. They all congratulated him. Capricia presented him with a scarf she had made herself from knitted ovine wool, dyed in many colours.

  Later that evening, as people were starting to drift away to bed, Fairview announced the news that Jackson had been waiting for. “Tomorrow, you will go outside,” he said. “It’s about time that you saw the world and got reacquainted with it. Someone will take you and start to show you what has changed since last you saw it.”

  Jackson could hardly contain his excitement, he wondered what he would see and who would accompany him. He hoped it would be Jessamine but if any of the others knew, they were not sharing the information.

  ~~~~

  Next morning, after fast-breaker, Jackson ventured outside, to his delight, he was indeed accompanied by Jessamine. It was a rainy morning when they slipped through the gates and stood together on the road. Jackson had forgotten what it was like to be outside the wall. He was happier than he had ever been. Dressed in a new suit that had been waiting in his room when he had retired after the party, he felt a gentleman, so far removed from the youth he had been a few short months ago. He was confident that he could cope with all the city could throw at him. Jessamine was dressed in a fetching gown of bright red, with white trims. She carried a woven basket, covered with a cloth that matched her gown.

  “What’s in the basket?” he asked her, as they walked across the courtyard to the main gate.

  “We have our luncheon,” she said, lifting the corner of the cloth to show the presence of pies and bottles. “Capricia was to come with you, but she was called away for another errand.”

  Jackson was pleased; he found Capricia tiresome, with her braying laugh and exaggerated self-confidence. He had still to ask Jessamine about
the behaviour of the other women, perhaps he would get the chance today. They reached the gatehouse. “Good morning to you,” said the uniformed man on duty. “Not the best day for a picnic.” He pulled a lever and the gates swung open.

  Chapter 6

  Right up to that moment, Jackson had not thought this time would ever come. To start with, food and peace from bullying were his only hopes from this new life. The training had been useful information; he was stronger and less naive now, better able to survive. To be allowed outside was a bonus. Prior to his encounter with Langdon, he had almost put the idea from his mind.

  Yet having sat on the top of the wall and seen the world, he had found a renewed longing. Then he had entertained the idea of escape, that had changed as he had learned more, he felt like his new friends were now the family he could barely remember. To leave them now, for an uncertain life alone, was not a sensible idea. Yet, he still yearned for freedom, he would see how the day progressed and decide later.

  Taking Jessamine’s hand, Jackson slipped nervously through the gate. For the first time in six years, he was in the outside world. It started to rain, Jessamine pulled a small cylinder from her basket.

  “What is that?” Jackson asked as she flicked the end of it downwards. “’Tis an Umbell,” she replied as it opened out into a large shield. She held it aloft. “Take my arm and walk close to me,” she said. Jackson did so, feeling comforted by the contact. He felt protected, in this strange world. There was ample room for them both to shelter beneath it. Jackson could hear the rain falling on its surface. “Oswald invented it; rather he copied it from the sunshade used in the Spice Islands. His version is a lot easier to carry and is also waterproof.” They walked down the alleyway and around a corner.