Julius and the Watchmaker (27 page)

The rumour of the Grackack convict soon spread among the officers of the
Bountiful
and it was quickly confirmed by the two sergeants major while under the influence of rum. They said that the Grackack was chained up in a sealed cell at the furthest end of the hold. The clockmen were under strict instructions to let no one near him, to kill anyone who tried.

‘Captain Blight—may God grant 'im boils in inconvenient places—couldn't get to within twenty paces of the Banshee, even if 'e had a letter of introduction from Queen Victoria 'erself, God bless 'er,' Sergeant Major Oldsworth had said between swigs of rum, before he passed out.

As the
Bountiful
set a course for Port of Spain to take on water and supplies, Julius rummaged through his kitbag. It was time to put the plan into action. He took out a clockwork nightingale and slipped it into his pocket. It was early evening and all was dark but for the lamp on the quarterdeck. He slipped into the passage that led to the clockmen's quarters.

Julius put his ear to the door. There was no sound, but he knew that Christian Machine and three other clockmen were resting in there after being on duty all day. He knocked loud enough to be heard above the sound of the sea and the ship and turned the handle.

The clockmen's quarters was no more than a small, square room with wooden benches built around three walls. Julius could smell watch oil and damp canvas suits. The lamp creaked as it swung from a hook with the rolling of the ship. The clockmen sat in silence. They turned their telescope eyes on Julius. But the four pairs of eyes gave nothing away. If they were surprised, annoyed or indifferent to his intrusion into their private quarters, Julius could not tell. He had rehearsed this first meeting, but now that the time had come, the words he had imagined disappeared like a flock of startled starlings.

‘Hello,' he said. ‘I hope you don't mind the intrusion… I wanted to give you something, Christian Machine.'

The clockmen looked at him. ‘We met in London… I don't know if you recall. It was quite some time ago.
Speak plainly, Higgins, or he'll never understand you
. How do you do?' said Julius as he held out his hand to the clockman.

Christian Machine looked down at Julius's small, trembling hand and then back at his face. Julius blinked. The clockman slowly extended his hand and held Julius's.

‘Flynn's young friend?' came a crackling sound through the mesh where a mouth should have been.

‘Yes, that's right.'

The clockman looked at Julius and then released his grip.

‘Mr Flynn sends his regards. I've brought you something, I thought you might like it. It's…it's… well, I'll show you,' said Julius and he took the toy nightingale from his pocket.

The yellow lamplight caught the curves and lines of the toy as Julius held it out for them to see. The four pairs of eyes fell on it. Julius turned the key in the side of the tiny brass bird. As the mainspring unwound, the wings fluttered, the head turned from side to side and the beak opened and closed. A music box within played a nightingale's call.

The mainspring slowly wound down, the music stopped and the wings were still. The clockmen continued to look at the brass bird.

‘Anyway,' said Julius. ‘I thought you might like it, you being, you know…clockwork yourself…no offence.'

Christian Machine looked at Julius.

‘Look, it winds up here. You can listen to it whenever you like, although not while on duty, I suppose,' said Julius offering the bird to him.

None of the clockmen said anything so Julius placed it into Christian Machine's hand and left the room. As soon as the doorhandle had clicked shut he placed his ear to the door and listened. There was no sound. He strained his ear. Nothing.
It was a stupid idea anyway, Higgins. You should have known it wouldn't work.

As Julius turned to leave, a nightingale's call stopped him in his tracks. He put his ear back to the door and listened to the tune.
There, you knew it would work, Higgins.

CHAPTER 23

Friday 28th September, 1840
7:14 PM

The next evening Julius took out a clockwork horse.

He put it in his pocket and knocked and entered the clockmen's quarters. Christian Machine was holding the clockwork nightingale delicately in his fingers.

‘Hello,' he said with a little more confidence this time. They all looked at him. Julius imagined he saw something different in their eyes. ‘I've brought something else,' he said as he took the tiny horse from his pocket.

‘Watch this,' he said, as he wound the key sticking out of its side. The horse's legs moved stiffly as the mechanism buzzed. He held his right hand out for the horse to walk on. The clockmen watched in silence as the horse reached the end of Julius's right hand. One of the clockmen held out his palm, as flat as he could make it. Julius allowed the horse to prance across the clockman's hand. The clockman seemed to have the hang of it. They all watched the clockwork horse traverse the landscape of wood and brass. Julius left the room.
It's all going to plan, Higgins. The professor will be free before we dock at Trinidad.

Over the next few days Julius went to the clock-men's quarters at the end of their shifts and distributed clockwork toys. There was a bird with fluttering wings, a cat that purred and even a tiny clockman.

‘They're beautiful, aren't they?' said Julius, as he gave them a clockwork bumblebee.

‘Yes,' said Christian Machine. Julius guessed that he was the spokesman for them all as he was the only one who ever spoke directly to him.

‘I'm glad you like them. Don't let anyone see, though. They might not understand.'

‘We know.'

Ask them now, Higgins, go on, you coward.

Christian Machine appeared to be summoning the energy to speak again.

‘We thank you,' he said and then sagged from the effort.

‘You're welcome,' said Julius. ‘I…there is just one thing…' he continued as he looked at the wood and brass faces. ‘It's nothing, goodnight.'

He closed the door and hastened down the corridor to the deck.

The next morning, just before dawn, Julius was woken by a loud crash that resounded through the ship. He fell out of his hammock and hit the floor as a cacophony of bangs and crashes rang out on the deck
. Oh cripes, Higgins. The ship's sinking. You didn't think of that, did you?
He could hear men shouting as he and a few young officers hastily dressed. They burst out onto the deck to the most astonishing sight.

Two clockmen were locked in combat, brass fists pounding. They grappled and punched with more ferocity and speed than Julius had seen them use when fighting humans. Every blow reverberated across the deck. Officers were coming from all points of the ship, other clockmen were climbing up from the hold and the clockwork crew were hopping excitedly among the shrouds like spectators cheering at a boxing bout.
If they go on like this they'll have the ship in splinters
, thought Julius.

One of the clockmen was getting the upper hand, slamming his compatriot repeatedly against the base of the main mast.

‘What is the meaning of this?' bellowed Captain Blight, arriving on deck in his nightshirt and nightcap. ‘Desist from this unseemly display immediately, do you hear?'

The fighting clockmen did not hear.

‘Mr Sprogett, Mr Sprogett. Where in Hades' name are the sergeants who keep these contraptions in line?' he shouted.

‘Below decks, Captain. Drunk as usual,' said Sprogett.

‘What are you waiting for? Get them up here.'

‘Yes, Captain,' said Sprogett. He saluted and sprinted towards the officers' quarters.

Christian Machine climbed out from the hold and attempted to grab the arm of one of the fighting clockmen as it tried to pound its opponent overboard. The clockman lashed out at Christian Machine, knocking his ear grill across the deck.

A moment later the two sergeants major were hauled on deck by the officers. They were half asleep, half dead and half dressed.

‘Order your contraptions to desist, before they sink my ship,' bellowed the captain.

The sergeants both stared in disbelief.

‘Do something, damn you, or I'll have you flogged, navy regulations be damned,' he yelled, quivering with rage.

‘Yes, sir,' said Sergeant Oldsworth. ‘Right away, sir…'Ere, come on Deakin,' he said to the other sergeant. ‘They can't disobey a direct order from us.'

‘You 'ope,' said Deakin.

Oldsworth stepped forward, stood to attention and roared like an angry elephant, ‘ATTEEEEN… SHUN!'

He held his hand to his throbbing temple and watched the clockmen battle on. The effort of shouting had made his head worse. Christian Machine and the other non-combatants had obeyed his command, however. They stood to attention like clockwork soldiers still in their boxes.

‘You 'eard the man, you useless articles,' yelled Deakin, marching perilously close to the battling clockmen.

This had the desired effect. The clockmen stopped pounding one another and separated. The one leaning backwards over the rail fell on the deck while the other one stood to attention. They had done considerable damage to each other—wooden slats were punched in and brass fittings were pulled askew and dented. The ship was suddenly quiet. Captain Blight's eyeballs bulged out of their sockets as he looked at the damage they had caused to his ship.

‘I told the Admiralty,' he bellowed. ‘I told them not to allow these abominations on board,' he yelled as he pushed Oldsworth aside and stood shaking with rage in front of Christian Machine. ‘What is the meaning of this display of barbarism?'

Christian Machine said nothing but stood still, leaning to the left. The side of his head was dented and scarred from the blow he had received. If Julius had not known better he would have thought that the clockman was in pain.

‘Answer me,' bellowed the captain.

Julius sidled up to Oldsworth. ‘Tell the captain,' he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

‘Tell 'im what.'

‘That Christian Machine can't answer straight away.'

‘You tell 'im. I ain't saying naffing.'

Julius swallowed. He was beginning to feel seasick again.

‘Captain,' said Julius, stepping forward to attention. ‘You need to give him time to speak, Captain. They're not very good at talking.'

Captain Blight spun around and stared in disbelief at Julius. ‘Throw that accursed boy overboard,' he bellowed.

The officers hesitated before grabbing him. Throwing cadets overboard was definitely against navy regulations.

‘What are you waiting for, a flogging? Throw the brat overboard. I'll not have cabin boys give me orders on my ship, do you hear?'

‘Wait…I…' said Julius as Sprogett grabbed him by the shirt sleeve and steered him to the rail.

‘Don't worry Sedley, try to stay afloat 'til Blighty calms down and we'll come back for you, I promise,' he whispered into Julius's ear.

Julius's survival instincts overtook all sense of forward planning. He struggled furiously with Sprogett, but two other officers sprang forward and held him tight. They were just about to heave him overboard when a hand shot out and held him firmly by the upper arm. In his blind panic, Julius did not know what was happening. He was only aware of the iron grip on his arm and the fact that he was not yet under water.

‘What is the meaning of this insubordination?' the captain bellowed.

Julius found himself on his feet beside Christian Machine, who had a firm hold of his arm. The officers stepped back and stared at the clockman like awed children.

‘Oldsworth? Oldsworth? Where are you, damn it?' said the captain looking around for the sergeant. ‘Make it let go of that boy.'

‘Yes, sir. Er…Now look 'ere, Machine, what's this all about? You knows the rules about fighting and… and such like? Speak up man,' said Oldsworth in a commanding but conciliatory tone.