The Mystery of the Meteor Men
Before we begin: This story is based on The Brilliant Book 2012 (again) but is very Jenny-centred. If you really like Madame Vastra, please be aware that she's away for most of this adventure. Just don't want people looking for her and being disappointed. Jenny finds some new people to help her though and one of them is very, very old...
Prologue -
Remember, remember, the Fifth of November
The Gunpowder Treason and plot;
I know of no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot. - Traditional English Rhyme
Saturday, November 5, 1881 - Central London
"Penny for the Guy!"
Wiggins (no other name known) called out his pitch in the loudest voice his small frame could muster. He had a decent spot near the Holborn Viaduct. The parish's Guy Fawkes procession would go right by his stand. From time to time he got lucky; a coin or even two found its way into the old cap beside the old rags stuffed into the shape of a battered Guy Fawkes. Wiggins wasn't worried that the ragged clothes were falling apart at the seams; by the end of the evening, the Guy would burn. So long as he made a few coppers, it was all good with him.
As the second command of the small but clever gang who hung around St Pauls Cathedral and the great publishing houses on nearby Paternoster Row, the wiry youngster had a small but regular income. The gang, a group with more bravado than sense, had been taken in hand in the last few months by their new Captain, with profitable results.
In mid-August, a few of the young toughs, thinking they had easy pickings in a newly arrived widow and her maid, had decided on a bit of housebreaking. It had been a painful mistake. Instead finding an easy raid where they could bully a pair of helpless females, the young toughs had their arses handed to them. They'd all heard of The Banker's Rescue down the road in Cheapside in the Spring; a man saved by an umbrella wielding widow and her broomstick swinging maid, but that had been months ago. And besides, who would believe a Henny Penny tail like that? How were they to know that their new neighbours were THAT widow and her young companion!
Luckily although they were definitely defeated they were only lightly mauled. And then they received the most blistering raking over the coals in their young lives. The Widow didn't say much, merely stood there, ominous and forbidding in her dark clothes and hidden face, while her girl paced back and forth in front of them, describing their many flaws. Eventually Wiggins had forgotten his embarrassment and anger and began to listen to what she said. She never repeated herself, she barely swore, but she certainly described their shortcomings, in brains, in brawn, in planning and in most certainly in getting things done! Eventually she had each of them empty their pockets, took what little they had, and told them they had to earn it back. They worked for Madame Vastra now.
Over the next few weeks, as ears were cuffed when needed, they did just that. And a then a few members of the gang had their lives saved from a bunch of really bad coves. And the sister of Bookstore, one of the Paternoster Row apprentices who sometimes slipped the boys a farthing when he could, was rescued from a situation that had turned very, very nasty. That cemented the loyalty of the whole gang forever. And so the Captain gained the loose-knit gang's respect, and began to assert her authority.
The youngsters learned to use their skills in new and mostly lawful ways, and settled in to make small but adventurous livings running errands and tracking down chatter and people on The Captain's orders. Sometime in addition to their pay she fed them too. While the food was plain, it featured plenty of meat, bread and vegetables. Most of the boys never ate so well in their lives!
Wiggins looked up over the line of building around him, hoping to see some fireworks. Most of the area was lit up with lanterns and torches, but there was still a dark patch over near the railway yards near Ludgate Hill Station. Suddenly, against the darkness, Wiggins saw something falling from the sky. Four burning shapes. Didn't look like any fireworks he'd ever seen, usually they went up, not down. In the distance he heard a muffled crash. Or was that his imagination? He looked around, but no one else seemed to have heard the sound.
Wiggins hesitated a moment. If he stayed, he might beg a few more small coins, but more and more 'Guys' were being carried into the street, and that meant less coins to go around. On the other hand, information was something everyone in the gang was always well paid for.
Snatching up his cap and the coins inside it, Wiggins wove quickly through the crowds towards Ludgate Hill, leaving the ragged Guy Fawkes sprawled on the pavement, until someone took pity on it, and heaved it on to the local bonfire to finally burn.
Wiggins crept through the dark railway yard, squinting a little at what he saw. Four burning shapes, each the length of a man, and half as wide and deep. Shaped a bit like giant pea pods...
Three of the pods were half-buried in the dirt, but looked like they were in one piece. The fourth one had rammed into a brick storage shed, and the building had caved in on it.
All the pods glowed red, and even from where he was hiding, Higgins could feel the heat. He watched for a few minutes as the pods quickly cooled, fading from glowing red to black. And then there was a quiet "chuff," and three pods opened. The fourth one, half buried in the pile of bricks, did not.
From each of the three open pods a man stiffly climbed out. At least Wiggins thought they must be men. In the dim light from the distant gas lamps, two of the figures definitely looked human, but the other was short and squat, and seemed to have a hat or hood that made its head seem pretty wide. As that one turned back for a moment to check behind 'him,' Wiggins saw its face in the dim light from the street.
Whatever it was, it wasn't a man. It looked more like a really angry pig! Wiggins gasped, and the thing began to turn towards him.
"Oi! You there! Stop where you are!" A deep and powerful voice called out.
Wiggins froze, but remained tense and ready to run. He glanced to his right, and could see a burly railway guard running towards the group of men. He'd never been so happy to see a guard in all his life!
The pig-man turned to the railway man, and looked him up and down for a moment. Then it turned towards to other and grunted something. To Wiggins, the sound was harsh and sharp.
One of the others raised a hand, and pointed at the guard. There was a flash of light, and the guard fell, hard. There was a smoking hole in his chest.
Wiggins could only stare, horrified.
The thing that looked like a man dropped it arm to its side, and stood there, not moving. The pig-faced man went to the guard's body and looked it over, then waved over the man who'd shot it, and barked something more.
The killer simply pointed again, and set the body glowing. In less than a minute, it had turned to ash.
The things turned again, and walked away, never looking back.
Wiggins knew that something was very wrong. He needed help, from the sharpest tack in the whole City of London. He needed the Captain of the gang!
He needed Jenny Flint!