Abney Park's The Wrath Of Fate (8 page)

THE BEST GIMMICK EVER

The next night was the concert. Dr. Calgori had, in addition to overseeing the repairs and modifications to the
Ophelia,
spent some time repairing an upgrading our instruments. Our modern electric guitars, and synthesizer’s were, in his humble opinion, abysmally ugly. The doctor took it upon himself to correct this lack of design, and the result made our salvaged twentieth century instruments look like something from Captain Nemo’s Nautilus.

That night as we packed up our instruments, Lilith had come to us with a “new song” she had “written”. But far from being a finished song and arrangement, this was merely the start of some sophomoric poetry. It was about a beautiful dancing girl, so beautiful the whole world loved her. I was supposed to finish this song for her, and then sing it while gazing at her as she danced before our audience.

“We do
not
have time to learn a new song! We’ve only got three hours until the show!” Kristina said coldly, as the rest of our make-shift ensemble continued to pack, avoiding eye contact with Lilith.

We arrived at the dingy roadside club at night. We doused all the lights onboard, Daniel dropped down on a huge mooring hook, and attached the airship to an abandoned water tower a few dozen yards out of the reach of the light. After that, we lowered our gear and ourselves into the parking lot, just outside the ring of light created by the club. As long as we left before dawn, no one would know we hadn’t just arrived in one of the many cars parked here.

The “festival” we were playing was called the Utah Dark Arts Festival. It was a once-a-year music event for Goths, and we were the third of four bands to play that night. Kristina, myself, Jean-Paul, Tanner, and Lilith entered in our strange Victorian attire, dragging our bizarrely modified equipment.

We told the stage manager we were the band Abney Park, and we were directed to the “dressing room”, which in this case meant there were a bunch of mirrors propped up against beer kegs in the basement.

We stood out. The room was filled with tall shadowy musician-types; pale faced, in black eyeliner, black vinyl pants, turtle necks, mohawks, and massive black boots. In contrast we were comprised of: one kilted and top hatted Tanner, Jean-Paul in his silk genie attire, myself in a tattered brown tailcoat I found in the previous captain’s closet, Kristina wearing a borrowed (and too small) khaki military uniform, and Lilith looking like we stole her from a harem.

Musicians from other bands began to crowd around, gawking as we unpacked. I’d been afraid the clothes and instruments would draw attention in a bad way. Now I realized they were drawing attention in a good way.

As I unpacked my gear, the lead singer from the headline band called The Last Dance came up to me. “I absolutely love your new shtick! The band looks fantastic! I’ve never seen anything like this! Look at that guitar!” Jeff exclaimed, as Tanner pulled out a solid brass seven string guitar, complete with spinning clockwork, and firing sparks.

“Thanks!” interjected Lilith. “It was really my idea. I’ve been dressing them, and drawing pictures for them to copy…”

Kristina shot a glance as if to say, “Like hell you did,” but a small crowd was now surrounding Lilith, and marveling at her genius.

“Of course, I didn’t write the music. Honestly, the music sucks. Its not what I’m into at all,” Lilith said casually, adjusting her small breasts in her corset in a very intentionally revealing way.

Still, I was just thrilled all these musicians liked it. I was afraid the result of our homemade gear, and make-shift clothing would be laughter, or even worse. But people thought it was a new feature. “Um, yeah. We’ve got a new gimmick. You like it? And wait till you hear how our songs have…changed.” This was a perfect cover. We have a new gimmick! Meanwhile, after the one rehearsal we fumbled through this morning, I was not confident we could sound anything like what was expected of us.

“I’m a bit curious
myself
as to how they will turn out,” I mumbled this last bit to myself.

A huge, burly man with a tattooed neck and triple pierced nose appeared in the doorway. “Abney Park, Five minutes,” he growled at me.

We headed onstage, dragging our own gear. Copper guitar amplifiers, a two-hundred-year-old violin, rusty brass resonator mandolin, a bass guitar with copper tentacles coming out the sides, and synthesizer with tesla coils firing in the center.

The audience stood baffled and confused, and silent – but at least they hadn’t left!

The first song began. It was an old guitar driven piece I wrote years ago called “The Death of the Hero”, but this time the guitar rhythm was replaced with violin, sounding more like a gypsy dance, than a rock song. Lilith spun and twirled, and writhed to it, and soon the audience was jumping in beat to the Sufi-style rhythm.

Then onto a bit I had written the day before: a song about an airship full of pirates, sneaking into town stealing parts for their ship. Again, instead of guitars, it lead in with a mandolin, and puff organ duet between Kristina and Tanner. It was rapid fire, unexpected, and the audience was going wild! This new gimmick as they saw it was so fresh, so novel, and so thorough! “I almost
believe
it,” they told themselves. “Its like I can hear a story running through the lyrics, song for song!” they said to their friends. We just smiled nervously, played our music, and hoped they didn’t figure it out, which of course they never could. People have a hard time departing from what they know to be true, and this
couldn’t
be true.

After the show, and several encores, the crew and the audience were buzzing with excitement over the concert. They loved the high energy of the music, the excitement of being in a strange place at a strange time, and the thrill of being onstage.

Again Lilith stood in a crowd of fans taking credit for our changes, as the rest of us packed up our heavy equipment. The fact is, onstage she didn’t do much more then swing her hips, but the fans enjoyed it so I had no complaints.

This was the crew’s first exposure to the Twentieth Century, and modern music; and this was the Twentieth Century’s first exposure to our bizarrely anachronistic mix of sounds. Both were in love with each other.

VIRAL PIRACY

For a few days after the concert we remained aloft, trying to stay in a bank of clouds that was drifting slowly east, while Dr. Calgori calculated the return trip to 1906.

When he’d finished his calculations, the crew began to “batten down the hatches” as they put it, tying down anything that was precariously attached. Most of the crew had dread in their eyes. From what I heard, jumping through time wasn’t easy. On the maiden voyage, the ship was so battered by the journey that she was nearly unrepairable. We had basically spent the last week repairing the damage from the first jump, and now we were about to do it again. The return jump would be equally as hard, although Calgori assured us he had braced the weaker parts of the structure. I consoled myself with the thought that they all knew what to expect now and should be better equipped to handle anything that might happen. The crew however, knowing what it would be like, fortified themselves with rum.

Finally, the hour came to make the jump. I stood at the massive Captain’s Wheel, in what had become my quarters, having been warned that manning the “on deck bridge” was too dangerous. Daniel was at my side, holding onto two large brass handles that were attached to the ceiling. And Kristina and Tanner were sitting at the newly bolted down table and chairs to my right, throwing back shots of whiskey in order to prepare themselves for the turmoil of time travel. (I later learned this was the way of this crew: Daniel standing diligently ready to help, while the rest of the crew got drunk enough to overlook anything that needed doing!) Lilith was, confusingly, applying makeup with an air of complete confidence and lack of concern.

Finally Calgori’s voice could be heard through the ‘yelly-phone’, as I called it; a copper pipe that ran between the helm and the map room with a megaphone on each end. It really only worked if both parties yelled.

“With your permission, Captain, I’m ready to throw the switch.”

I glanced to Tanner. He and Kristina threw back the contents of their shot glasses, before he stored the glasses and bottle. I then glanced back to Daniel, who pulled the rope of a steam whistle which notified the rest of the crew we would soon be off.

“At your leisure, good Doctor!” I said, perhaps too enthusiastically.

At first there was no noise, but out of my periphera, I could see the two glass orbs that hung outside my windows fill with pink glowing gas - a dark pink - the color of the sky during a lighting storm. Then came a shudder in the ship, followed by a slight and unnatural sense of anxiety. It was not like a panic attack, but like a feeling of acceleration that had nothing to do with moving or dropping. My ears popped painfully.

Instantly, a huge wind hit the ship, as if a wall of stone was thrown against us! Windows smashed, lanterns swung and shattered against the wall, a rack of decorative swords and rifles crashed to the ground and flew across the floor.

Daniel swung nearly perpendicular on his handles, and hung there as the ship lurched to one side.

There was a massive groaning of ropes from outside the cabin, and the huge “
pling
!” of at least one rope snapping loose. From elsewhere in the ship I could hear men yelling back and forth to each other.

Rain was now pelting the glass. Doctor Calgori later told me the rain was from a change in air pressure between the time we left and the time we arrived and the varying altitudes we could be at. As the two different air pressures collided, a small but dramatic weather system would form. Occasionally, this would even cause snow.

Finally, slowly, almost as if in slow motion, a bookshelf toppled from the wall, and crashed to the floor, spilling books everywhere.

This was too much for Kristina and Tanner, and they burst into drunken laughter.

Within a few minutes, the swinging and shaking slowed to a gentle back and forth rocking, like a ship on mild waves. Daniel relaxed his grip on his handles, let his feet back to the floor, and sarcastically said, “Well, that was fun! Let’s get on deck and see
when
we are, because at this point I
totally
trust the Doctor to stick to the plan!”