No one can sleep well with a secret. It is an almost universal truth. The pressure to confide, expose, and knowingly destroy is too powerful for some, and instead of lying awake as the clocks ticked past two o'clock a malicious few will find a way to relieve themselves of guilt.
Kate Solington was not one of those people. She knew that if she passed on the secret she kept, she would hurt naught but herself.
She smiled at her thoughts as she lay sleepless in bed. Naught.
The Naught. That was her secret. The massive beastie hidden in the sludge beneath the Thames.
She'd slaved over the thing for years; beginning work the very day she was accepted into the boffin house. Of course, she'd had to pay off the odd inquisitive coworker, but with her salary that was rarely a problem.
It was her sense of duty that drove her mad. A conundrum, no matter which way you saw it. She knew what was right for her country, and what the public wanted. She felt obliged to take this matter into her own hands and protect her homeland and her nation. It was her duty. But was it not her duty to serve her superiors as well? Going behind their backs to create a monumental creature was hardly serving her superiors.
The woman sighed and turned, snagging her soft-spun hair on the rough-hewn headboard. She had sold every possession of value she had and put the money towards this monumental beast. The bed she slept on was resurrected from the trash.
She cursed and attempted to untangle herself without further pain. But her hair was black as the night around her and the fickle moon did little to assist her plight.
Kate laughed. One of the most powerful boffins in England and yet here she was, trying to separate her hair from a bed frame by the light of the moon. There was no way she looked terribly graceful.
It was well-known that Kate was hyper-obsessed with her appearance. Considering the fact that she was hiding a secret poised to destroy her standing, it was rather forgivable. But considering the fact that she was peerless even in her futile hair-related plight, it was a meaningless obsession.
Rumor had it that she caught the eye of Tom Kensings, British Head of Security, during a genetic survey of their airfleet. While yes, the rumors were true, she could never fall for someone so… so… Nevermind. She could not find a single flaw in the man.
Could not, or would not, she asked herself. Was she simply refusing herself, sacrificing her social life once again for the secret she kept?
She sighed as her hair slid free of the splintering headboard. She put the scissors back on the beaten bedside table and fell back into her pillow. Oh well, she supposed. The time was almost up. Her appearance didn't matter so much anymore.
…
It wasn't even beautiful, she mused. Her masterpiece lay before her, and she couldn't deny its resemblance to a turd. The large, comical mouth and beady eyes beheld its creator with little emotion. She was praying that the beast would do its part.
The creature was engineered with the transformative powers of chameleons and cuttlefish, blended with the morphing powers of a jellyfish. Its veins were laced with the venom of seasnakes and shark-like bloodlust, but that stage was only temporary. Once it reached the pristine waters of the Ottoman empire, the massive hideousness that lay before her would hopefully disappear, leaving behind an entirely new creature.
The beastie fed on nutrients in the water. When the nutrients were pure and uncontaminated, it transformed into a gilded serpent. When pollution reached the thing's massive gills, it remained a senseless glob indistinguishable from the river bottom.
It was a secret weapon.
During her upcoming visit to the Ottoman Empire, still reeling from their disastrous civil war, she would present the beast to the Sultan. In their clean Mediterranean waters, the Naught would seem a beautiful, flawless serpent, power disguised by adornment. In the Turkish-controlled Black Sea, however, now polluted beyond repair by their Clanker machines, the beast would revert to its incognito state. The Turks would be watching for the beautiful serpent, not the hideous blob. It would slip effortlessly past their defenses. Gradually, the massive predator would destroy their navy, then transform into its amphibious form and invade the land. The plan was for the beast to cripple the Clanker Turks before they knew what was happening, opening the land lost to the Ottomans during the civil war for invasion.
The Darwinist-sympathizing Ottomans were possibly the only hope for the English. Russia was embroiled with internal issues as food ran short in the North and politicians threatened abdication. Japan was too far away, what remained of France's army was tied up in supporting their ridiculous border defenses, and Serbia and Belgium had been annexed by Germany. War was no longer impending, at least not the violent kind – rather, a political maelstrom was brewing. The Darwinists needed more influence.
The tentacles of the mollusk that served as Kate's rebreather shifted and she almost spit the thing out. She'd never gotten used to the things, and still gagged every time she put one on. Donning a Spottiswoode was no more pleasant, however, and much more conspicuous.
Vile Americans. Wasn't there a better way to make a carbon-scrubbing beastie?
America. That was what this was all about. After the government collapsed due to a floundering economy, citizens convinced themselves that sharing Clanker technologies with Darwinist philosophies was ruining their system. To them, the easiest way to revive their dead nation was by converting. They would become either entirely Darwinist or entirely Clanker. Depending on which faction had the best offer. The Unity Act decreed this, in no uncertain terms. All that remained to be determined was the party to join.
Kate broke the surface, satisfied with her creature, and swam to shore. Sand clung annoyingly to the soles of her feet as she struggled with her bootlaces, but she managed and ran back to her apartment to change. The Gargantua was slated to arrive soon.
Somewhere around midday Kate arrived at the landing station. The traditional bowler cap of the boffin lay tilted at a rakish angle on her head, her dagger-straight brown hair falling around her shoulders. A lavender dress fluffed with layers of petticoats completed the picture: no one in their right mind would dare accuse this woman of illegal fabrication.
"Excuse me, sir?" Kate grabbed the elbow of a passing steward. "When is the Gargantua arriving? I was told noon."
"Not sure, madam. That's what I heard, too." His attempts to dislodge his detainer were in vain; as he set off towards the offices, Kate doggedly pursued him.
"Then where is it?"
"Couldn't tell you. No one has any idea. We've received no transmissions, message hawks, anything. You'll just have to wait with everybody else."
Dissolute, Kate stalked towards the mooring tower. It rose high above the rest of the city, ready to anchor the absent airship for boarding. Kate stared at the sky, searching for anything. She needed to reach the Ottomans before the Naught, and the Naught had been instructed to leave for their shores at noon. Wonderful. Absolutely…
"Wonderful day out, isn't it, Ms. Solington?" Kate turned to see Tom Kensings at her elbow. "But whatever are you doing here?"
"Does my presence concern you?" questioned Kate, with every ounce of icy unfeeling she could mutter.
"All matters regarding my most prominent boffin concern me. Without you, our army would be naught."
Of course he had to choose that word. Naught.
"I'm flattered, I'm sure." She sighed. "If you must know, I'm attempting to get to the Ottoman Empire. My father is ill. Critically ill, they say."
Her excuse was rehearsed. Every hole in the deception was filled.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Solington. If there is anything I can do, tell me. " He sounded sincere.
"Kate, please," she smiled. Curse him. She felt guilty, leading him on like this. "Thank you. It's not often some takes time in the political game to offer assistance. But I'm sure he'll pull through. I won't be gone more than a week or two."
"We need you here, Kate. The American situation-"
"Is being handled perfectly, as far as I'm concerned. I've yet to figure out what role a boffin could play in such negotiations, however."
"If winning their alliance boils down to gift-giving and bribery, we will do it. Therefore we could quite possibly have need of an astounding new beastie to present as tribute."
"I have plans, I have plans. Don't concern yourself with that. Concern yourself with the whereabouts of the Gargantua."
"What do you mean?" asked the confused man.
"It was supposed to arrive at noon. No one's heard anything on its location."
"What time is it now?"
"Quarter past one."
"Damn. How do we lose an airship?"
"You tell me. That's your job, is it not?"
Visibly annoyed, Tom strode off. Kate sighed, and settled herself onto a wooden bench. The wait was sure to be a long one.