The Black Crow Conspiracy Page 13

  He turned to Professor Röntgen, the scientist now slipping a lead-lined apron around his neck. “Please explain to Mr Flinch the nature of the discoveries you have made, mein Professor.”

  “Are you quite sure, Your Highness?” Röntgen replied, glancing up at the Kaiser in surprise. “If my discovery was to be revealed in the pages of this ‘Penny Dreadful’ magazine…”

  “Do not question me!” the Kaiser snapped in a sudden burst of anger. Then, recovering his composure almost as quickly as he had lost it, he spoke again in a more measured tone. “It will soon be time for the world to learn of the magnitude of our achievements as we enact the final stage of my master plan tonight. Mr Flinch may as well have the privilege of being one of the first.”

  An arrogant smile crept across the Kaiser’s face. “And besides, I do not think he will have the chance to betray our confidence.”

  At the Kaiser’s words, Monty looked nonplussed, but Professor Röntgen nodded his obedience, gesturing upwards towards the apparatus suspended from the ceiling.

  “You see here, Mr Flinch, my own unique invention, the product of many years of research and countless experiments. This is the Röntgen Ray Generator – an X-ray machine like no other.”

  “Aren’t X-ray machines rather old hat now?” Monty replied, glancing nervously at Röntgen’s machine. “A circus trick allowing the curious to photograph the bones beneath the skin, but of little practical application.”

  The scientist bristled at Monty’s off-hand dismissal of his life’s work.

  “You do not understand the true potential of these invisible rays that will soon take my name. Imagine if the X-ray could be manipulated, not merely to take shadow photographs but to transform the human body into its shadow form. The flesh imbued with the same penetrative power that the X-rays themselves possess – the power to pass through solid matter without any harm.”

  Monty laughed nervously. “I’m afraid your proposition is too far-fetched, professor – even for the pages of The Penny Dreadful. I can see that I will have to seek inspiration for my next tale elsewhere. Now, if you would please excuse me—”

  “Stay where you are,” the scientist hissed, the Kaiser’s guards tightening their grip on Monty’s arms. “What I am telling you is true!

  “After my discovery of the X-ray, I became convinced that its remarkable power could in some way be harnessed to challenge the laws that govern the natural world. These rays are able to seep through all manner of matter – wood, stone, metal and more – their penetrative power is without parallel. Through a process of careful experimentation, I discovered a means by which I could manipulate their creation and thus harness their power. Using the application of radiation to their generation, I found that I had created a completely new form of invisible ray: no longer merely X-rays, but now radioactive Röntgen rays with the power to transform living beings into ghosts who can walk through walls.”

  Monty gasped in fear but, ignoring his reaction, the professor pressed on with his explanation.

  “When the Röntgen rays are fired directly at a living man they have the power to transform his constitution as the atoms that make up the physical body are saturated with their penetrative power. Drawing on Dr Jackson’s research into how electrical impulses from the brain control a subject’s movements, I discovered that the effects of these Röntgen rays could also be controlled by the power of thought. With the application of his own mind, a subject can momentarily loosen the bonds that hold the very atoms of his body together, allowing him to pass through any object unharmed.”

  Professor Röntgen glanced at the men seated beneath his machine. “The mental effort required to control this strange power is quite considerable, but fortunately with His Majesty’s support I have the fittest of subjects for my experiments.”

  The Kaiser fixed Monty with a malevolent stare, seemingly enjoying his discomfort.

  “Do you see what this means, Mr Flinch? With this power at my command, the German Empire will be invincible. My armies will be able to march through a hail of bullets and bombs without harm, my naval ships will steam through any blockade unhindered; no nation’s defences will be able to resist the strength of my New Atomic Army.”

  Monty paled, tiny droplets of sweat beading his forehead. “You talk of war,” he said. “There is no way Great Britain would allow it.”

  “Great Britain is already mine,” the Kaiser roared, rattling his sabre with his withered hand. “Once my troublesome uncle is disposed of, there will be a new King on the throne and I promise you that my reign will be a glorious one.”

  He turned again to Professor Röntgen, who was poised at the entrance to the antechamber. “Now, let us not delay any further; the tide will soon be turning and these young men must be prepared for their final mission.”

  With an obedient nod, the scientist hurried inside the lead-lined box. There came the sound of switches being flicked followed by a humming noise slowly rising in volume.

  “Your Majesty,” Röntgen called out. “I think it would be prudent if you joined me inside this protective shield.”

  With a nod to his guards to follow him, the Kaiser retreated to the antechamber’s interior, its lead-lined door slamming shut once Monty had been dragged inside. The humming sound grew louder still as the coils of the Röntgen Ray Generator began to crackle into life.

  Hidden inside the cramped confines of the packing crate, Penelope listened in fear. The giddy whine of the generator was reaching a crescendo and, through a crack, she could see the suspended glass tubes begin to glow with a flickering green light. She felt Amsel’s hand clutch her own.

  “Be brave,” the boy whispered. “You must steel your mind against the pain.”

  Penelope stared up at the strange apparatus. With a snapping sound, electrical currents shimmered from its coils, passing through the uranium interrupters as the invisible rays surged through the long glass tubes. She watched spellbound as a yellowish-green light spread over their surface in a rolling, cloud-like wave; the eerie luminescence growing stronger with the snapping of the discharge.

  Beneath the machine, the radiant boys were bathed in the same glowing green light, their expressions frozen in pain as the rays shone through.

  Penelope closed her eyes against the horror, but the uncanny light was imprinted on her retina; the indelible image of a coiled green snake slithering inside her mind. She felt a burning sensation pulse through her veins, and as Amsel’s body twisted in the narrow space next to hers, she knew he felt the same. The pain was almost unbearable; a soul-searing torment transforming every atom of her being. Biting her lip to try and stifle her own cry, Penny tasted blood on her tongue, the clamour of pain reaching a crescendo as she slowly slipped into oblivion.

  From the ceiling, the crackling whine of the Röntgen Ray Generator snapped into silence, the iridescent glow slowly fading from its long glass tubes. But beneath these, the radiant boys were rising from their chairs, the features of every single cadet a vivid glowing green.

  With Professor Röntgen by his side, the Kaiser emerged from the lead-lined antechamber, Monty still struggling in the clutches of the guards as they dragged him back into the laboratory.

  “My Lord,” he murmured, staring in horror at the shining features of the radiant boys. “What have you done to them?”

  “They have been transformed,” the Kaiser replied, his blue eyes sparkling with delight. “It is a shame that you will not be able to write this tale of the triumph of science.”

  “What do you mean?” Monty asked, blanching in fear as the guards released him.

  Ignoring his question the Kaiser turned to address the cadre of radiant boys.

  “Take him with you to the Tower,” he barked. “Dispose of him in the same dungeon that my uncle calls home. The Hohenzollern will sail with the tide and you must return there with my precious royal cargo before we raise anchor.”

  The radiant boys raised their arms in salute, stepping forward as Monty shrank
back in terror.

  “No, please! I beg of you—”

  Monty’s protest curdled into a cry of anguish as the radiant boys seized hold of him, their glowing green fingers causing the actor to faint. Pulling their scarves across their faces, the black-coated figures dragged him from the room, the Kaiser and his guards following close behind.

  With a last look around his laboratory, Professor Röntgen hurried to the door. Stepping outside, he reached up to the electric lantern that was fixed to the wall, sliding the green panel of glass into position in place of the red. Then the scientist pulled the door shut with a clang, turning his key with a click to keep the secrets of the Röntgen rays safely locked away.

  XX

  Penelope was lost in a darkling fog, fragments of memories fighting free from the cloaking mist that held her in its grip. She saw Monty quailing in front of the Kaiser, heard the whine of Professor Röntgen’s impossible machine, watched as an army of radiant boys marched through the laboratory; but every time she tried to fit these memories into place, the darkness claimed them again.

  Penny felt a distant thrum, a strange vibration that slowly dragged her out of the darkness and towards a glowing green light. As she neared it, she felt a burning sensation pulse through her veins again, the pain a pale shadow of what she had felt before. Taking a shuddering breath, Penelope opened her eyes to find herself staring into the face of a ghost.

  She scrambled backwards in alarm, the train of her evening gown catching beneath her heel. Amsel rushed to her aid, little realising that he was the cause of her consternation, the young sailor’s visage glowing as if lit from within. Penny stared down at her hand, the pulsing veins sketching a tracery of fire across her skin.

  “What has happened to me?” she murmured, her memories slowly resurfacing out of the darkness. “What has he done to us?”

  “He has made us into ghosts,” Amsel replied, staring down at his own hands in disgust. “Do not worry, Miss Tredwell, the effects of Professor Röntgen’s rays are still only temporary. Within a few hours, this strange fire you can feel racing through your veins will be gone, but we have to act now before it is too late.”

  Penelope glanced around the laboratory.

  “Where’s Monty?” she said. “Where have they taken him?”

  “The same place where they have King Edward the Seventh and his family imprisoned,” he replied. “The Tower of London.”

  Penny scrambled to her feet, shucking the naval coat that Amsel had draped around her shoulders to the floor. Hurrying to the steel door she turned the handle, only to discover that it was locked.

  “We’re trapped,” she said, turning back to Amsel in dismay. “There’s no way out.”

  The young sailor shook his head, picking his coat from the floor to drape it around Penny’s shoulders again.

  “No locked door can hold us now,” Amsel replied, reaching down to offer Penelope his hand. She stared down at his luminous fingers, the burning sensation pulsing through her flesh giving her own skin the same eerie glow. “It is all a matter of control,” he told her. “The mastery of mind over matter – you must believe that you can walk through steel unscathed.”

  As the fire raced through her veins, Penny took hold of the boy’s hand. Their shining fingers entwined with a sensation like lava melting, and then they stepped forward as one, their bodies slipping through the surface of the door as if it was made of water. Penelope felt her mind whirl, her brain refusing to believe the sensations that were pulsing through her frame. The world burned with the same fire that consumed her from within, her body vibrating in time with the billions of atoms that surrounded her. And then they were on the other side, Penelope untangling her fingers from Amsel’s before turning back to stare at the steel door in disbelief.

  “We did it,” she breathed. “We walked through solid steel.”

  Amsel nodded, the expression on his face still grim. “We will have to walk through more than steel before the night is out,” he replied, the lantern light outside the laboratory door reflecting the green glow of his skin.

  For Penelope, the next few minutes passed as if in a dream, the two of them slipping through the corridors of the Society. No wall or locked door was a bar to their progress. Escaping through the tradesmen’s entrance, they quickly ascended the steps to the pavement above, scurrying past the Duke of York statue before descending the stone steps that led to the Mall.

  “We must hurry,” Amsel said, keeping to the shadows as they rushed down the street. “The Kaiser and my compatriots have a head start and if they reach the Tower before us, then this British Empire of yours will be lost for good.”

  “I cannot keep up with your pace,” Penelope gasped, the folds of her evening gown gathered in her grasp. “Not in these heels.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  Penelope stepped out of the shadows, raising her hand to flag down a passing hansom cab.

  “What are you doing?” Amsel hissed as the cab driver reined his horses to a halt.

  With her face covered by the high collar of her borrowed jacket, Penny stepped up onto the cab’s footplate.

  “Making time,” she replied, beckoning for Amsel to follow her. “You see, I know the power of fear.”

  “Where to, miss?” the cabbie asked, glancing back over his shoulder as Amsel and Penelope settled into their seats. Penny turned down the collar of her jacket to reveal her glowing green visage.

  “The Tower of London,” she replied with a hiss. “And don’t spare the horses.”

  With a terror-stricken gasp, the driver shrank back in his box seat. He raised his whip with a crack, fear lining his features as he spurred the horses into life. The hansom cab jolted forward, throwing Penny and Amsel back in their seats, its wheels gathering speed as it headed for the river.

  XXI

  “This is an act of war,” the voice boomed, its echo reverberating through the dripping walls. “I demand that you release my family at once.”

  From the darkness of the catacombs, Penelope craned her neck to see the figure of King Edward the Seventh clutching the bars of an iron cage. The long shadows cast by a flickering lantern glow revealed his Queen and the rest of the royal family standing huddled behind him, all held prisoner in the same sprawling dungeon. In front of the cage, the black-coated figures of half a dozen radiant boys could be glimpsed, the eerie gleam of their features still masked behind swaddling scarves.

  By Penelope’s side, Amsel shook his head in defeat.

  “We’re too late,” he murmured. It seemed that the fear of God Penelope had struck into the heart of the hansom cab driver hadn’t been enough to get them here in time.

  After the trembling driver had deposited them at the bottom of Lower Thames Street, they had scurried past the shadows of the Tower, Amsel taking Penelope’s hand in his own as they plunged into solid stone. Penny’s mind reeled with every step they took, slipping through the walls of the Tower with a giddying sensation. She caught glimpses of roosting ravens, spiral staircases, scarlet uniforms standing sentry in the shadows; every snatched glance a brief respite before she was submerged again into solid stone. They were like ghosts, their passage undetected as they descended through the depths of the Tower before finally reaching this subterranean vault, long forgotten about by those above.

  The sound of a cough echoed through the catacombs and then the figure of the Kaiser stepped through the gloom. His military greatcoat was buttoned to his neck, whilst the Imperial State Crown added precious inches to his height. Wilhelm the Second came to a halt in front of the cage, peering in at the King with a devilish smile.

  “Come now, Uncle Bertie,” he chided him. “It can hardly be an act of war if I am to sit on Britain’s throne. Let us call this what it really is – a restoration of this nation’s true heir. It is what my dear grandmother wanted, you know. A strong ruler to safeguard the Empire that she built, rather than a prancing peacock like you.”

  Facing his nephew, the King�
��s features flushed with rage.

  “How dare you, you trumped-up little pipsqueak!” the King roared. “My mother wanted no such thing!”

  The Kaiser pouted in reply.

  “Remember that I was there when she died,” he snapped, stepping forward until he was standing almost next to the bars. “As I cradled her in my arms, I swear that she said with her dying breath that I should be King in your stead.”

  Thrusting his hands through the bars of the cage, Edward seized hold of the Kaiser’s lapels. “You’re a liar, Willie! You take that back this instant or I swear to God I’ll thrash you to within an inch of your life.”

  As the Kaiser spluttered in reply, two of the radiant boys standing guard reached out to pull the King’s hands away; the sight of their glowing fingers caused Edward to fall back with a cry of alarm.

  Straightening his stolen crown, the Kaiser stared down at his uncle with a withering look.

  “You are hardly in a position to make such threats,” he sneered. “And it is lucky for you that I know the meaning of mercy, Uncle Bertie. If I had wanted to I could have sent my men to assassinate you in your sleep, rather than merely stealing the Crown Jewels to put a stop to your coronation – do not worry, these baubles will be much safer in the throne room of my Berlin Palace. And if you had agreed to sign the abdication papers renouncing your claim to the throne, then I would have been prepared to let you see out your days at Sandringham. There you would have been able to amuse yourself with your racing pigeons and other such diversions in your dotage.”

  Princess Victoria bent to her father’s aid, cradling him in her arms. In the flickering glow of the lantern light, the King’s features appeared deathly pale against the violet of his daughter’s velvet gown. Behind them in the cage, the rest of the royal family stood powerless: the Duke of York stroking his moustache in an agitated manner, whilst Princess Louise silently sobbed. Clutching her grandchildren to her skirts, Queen Alexandra stared at the Kaiser with a cold fury.