"Damn and blast!"
"Sir?" I queried respectfully, putting the tray down on a nearby workbench and regarding his lordship with the utmost calm. It is a manservant's duty to be as imperturbable as possible at all times, lest an unseemly emotional outburst reflect badly on one's employer as well as oneself. I like to fancy that I am most effective at this.
"Not you, Jeeves, old boy, not you. It's this infernal contraption here." Lord Weston was a solidly-built man in his late fifties, fairly short and stout yet of a certain vigor that bespoke a life spent engaging a number of physical activities slightly unusual among his peers. He kicked irritably at a large contraption that had a number of impressive coils of wire sticking out at various points. It resonated with the impact, a fat spark crackling from the terminus of one of the coils, which ended in a polished brass ball two inches across.
Both of us stepped back slightly. One must keep a stiff upper lip, of course, but there are limits.
His lordship, of the Worcestershire Westons, was something of a tinkerer, and spent at least as much time in his workshop as he did in the more refined settings his position in society would normally suggest. Considered 'mildly eccentric' by his peers and 'barking mad' by his detractors, Lord Weston had told me on more than one occasion that he thought of himself as a forward looking investigator of the sciences.
His recent correspondence with a Hungarian inventor of some renown in the scientific world, one Nicola Tesla, had, after a considerable number of letters back and forth and the promise of funding for a new project, resulted in a parcel full of notes and diagrams. The machine that his lordship had spent close to six months building at great expense was the result.
Unfortunately, he didn't appear satisfied with the outcome of his project. Or, rather, the complete lack of it. Aside from half a dozen deceased sheep that had wandered a little too close from the adjoining field next to the old barn on the estate where the peer of the realm had been experimenting during one particularly spectacular failure, very little of note had happened.
They had been quite delicious once properly cooked, true, but it was small recompense for the significant expense of the project. And it must be noted that the tenant farmer whose animals they were was quite put out by their abrupt and unexpected, not to mention deafening, cessation. A certain sum of money exchanged hands to settle the disagreement, and the remaining sheep were moved to a more distant field.
Needless to say, this story was passed on in the village and embellished with the telling, which hardly helped his lordship's reputation. Although, it must be said, there was a notable drop in the rash of minor thefts that had been occurring with regrettable regularity in the locality. Apparently the miscreants were beginning to believe they should seek their fortunes further afield, out of range of unusual bolts of artificial lightning with a demonstrated propensity for causing injury.
"Tea, sir?" I inquired once it was clear that his lordship had fallen into a moment of reflective pondering. I have often found that the drink aids the intellect when facing a stubborn problem and it was my hope that it would so help my employer. I had only been with him for just under a year at this point, but I must confess to having become quite fond of him.
"Thank you, Jeeves," he remarked, not diverting his attention from the recalcitrant machinery. I poured him a cup, adding the correct amount of sugar and milk in the process, then gave it to him on a saucer. Taking it with a murmur of thanks, he sipped absently, still regarding the equipment in the middle of the barn.
"It's damned annoying, you know, Jeeves," he said after a moment, gesturing with the hand that held the teacup and very nearly spilling some. I prepared my handkerchief should it be required to dry his sleeve. Such a thing was not unknown, I must confess. "I have followed old Nicola's instructions precisely, with only the slightest of modifications where required due to the absence of certain materials. My substitutions are certainly within the limits of his specifications. The electrical generator itself is working perfectly..."
He glanced at the complex machine in the corner, harnessed to an ancient steam engine that had been repurposed from originally pumping water into the duck pond some two generations ago. It was chuffing away magnificently, puffs of steam emitted from the gleaming valves as they busily shuttled back and forth.
"...I think," he added after a moment's thought, completing the statement. Walking over to the generator device he experimentally prodded one of the large brass terminals that a thick rubber-covered cable was attached to, which resulted in a popping sound, a small spark, and a considerable amount of colorful language from him.
"Damn and blast!" he shouted when he'd stopped waving his singed finger in the air. "And I spilled my tea!"
"Most regrettable, your lordship," I noted, expressing a suitable amount of remorse. Levity would not be appreciated at this juncture, I felt sure, although his lordship normally had a lively sense of humor. "Does sir desire a fresh cup?"
"Thank you, Jeeves, that would be excellent," he replied, calming down quite rapidly. His lordship seldom stayed aggrieved, although the continued failure of his efforts were certainly eroding his normal puckish good nature.
I poured him another cup, having taken the precaution of bringing several sets of crockery with me. This was not an unexpected outcome, unfortunately being fairly commonplace. I also handed him my handkerchief so he might dry his hands, which he did.
"As I was saying, the generator is definitely working..." he stated, taking it and giving the aforementioned machine a baleful glare, which it entirely failed to notice. "The cabling is all connected properly, the internal wiring is correct, and I was most careful to wind the coils correctly. Admittedly I did scale everything up by four times, there's no need to make some silly little thing when one has all this space available, but that shouldn't cause any issues. Just give it four times the voltage and there you go!"
"I hesitate to contradict his lordship, but if I may inquire, are you entirely certain the relationship between scale and the required voltage is linear?" It was not my field, I have only a smattering of knowledge of the scientific arts, but I am quite adequate at basic mathematics. One has to be when one is in a position such as mine.
My employer stopped the motion of his hand, the cup hovering between saucer and mouth, as he stared at the machinery. His expression slowly changed from troubled to enlightened, then he turned to me. "Jeeves!"
"Sir?"
"An excellent thought, my good man! How could I have missed it? Non linear response! You are most likely on the right track. I've been foolish, I should have thought of that. Must be getting old, I think."
"Nonsense, my lord, you are scarcely fifty years old and in the peak of health. I am sure you would have arrived at the same conclusion momentarily." It is very important to ensure that one's employer never feels threatened by one's own intellect, you understand. And truthfully, my employer was both in robust health and of a very keen mind, he undoubtedly would have considered such an eventuality in due time. I merely managed to apply a fresh eye to the problem and was fortunate enough to come up with a possible issue.
"Good of you to say so, Jeeves," he enthused, finishing his tea and handing the cup and saucer back to me. "Good of you to say so. But I still missed the obvious. Thank you, my good man, thank you very much. I will have to rewind the transformer, change the gearing on the generator, possibly increase the boiler pressure to compensate..." He trailed off into a fugue of scientific musings, falling silent and staring into space.
After a few seconds I cleared my throat politely. "Will that be all, sir?"
"Hmm? What? Oh, yes, thank you, Jeeves. Please let Matilda know I may be late to the dinner table."
"As you wish, sir." I performed the appropriate minor obeisance, retrieved the tray and the broken cup and saucer, and left his presence. As I did so he was approaching the generator with a spanner in one hand and the light of invention in his eye. I hoped he had the forethought to stop it before he…
"Damn and blast!"
Unable to help it, I shook my head. My employer was… occasionally just the slightest amount over-enthusiastic. Returning to the main house I resumed my duties there, wondering if he would succeed in making his machine perform correctly.
The very unusual sound that flooded over Weston Manor early on Tuesday two weeks later made everyone give a start and look around. It wasn't precisely an explosion, having a longevity to it which went on for some seconds, but it shared some characteristics with one. There was also a considerable amount of very oddly colored light, all of it coming from the direction of his lordship's workshop.
"Oh, dear," the lady Matilda exclaimed, nearly dropping her monocle. "What ever do you suppose that was, Jeeves?"
I finished serving her a portion of smoked herring on toast, then proceeded to the nearest window facing in that direction and peered out. In the distance I could see a strangely virulent green light flickering over the low hill between the manor and the workshop in the barn. "I fancy that his lordship may have succeeded in his efforts, your ladyship," I replied. As a distant figure topped the hill and rapidly headed in our direction, I added, "Possibly too well, I fear. He is coming towards us apace. I will meet him at the front door and provide what aid I can."
"Thank you, Jeeves," she said, smiling a little. "On your way, could you perhaps pass the quail's eggs?"
"Of course, your ladyship," I said, performing the requested task. Shortly I was standing outside the main entrance to the manor, awaiting his lordship, who seemed unduly hurried today. He also appeared to be lightly smoking in the general area of his back and sleeves.
"May I take your jacket, sir?" I asked as he reached me. "It appears to be smoldering."
"Thank you, Jeeves," he puffed. "My word, that was a stiff walk. I haven't covered that much ground in such a hurry since the time I had that minor incident with the rhino in Rhodesia ten years gone. Blasted animal was much more resilient than I expected, nearly ran me down. Took three more shots to finish the blighter off."
"I recall your lordship recounting the tale," I replied, relieving him of his burning outerwear and placing it in the water trough outside the door, a relic of the days when horses were brought right to the main house. "I fear this jacket is a complete loss, sir."
"Never mind, old boy, plenty of them in the closet."
"As you say, sir."
In the distance, the crackling sound that had been just above the threshold of hearing intensified somewhat, causing us both to look in that direction. The pellucid glow had strengthened, adding a certain amount of faint purple sparks to the display. It was oddly pretty, I must admit, but I was also somewhat concerned it presaged some event of unusual proportions.
"If I may ask, sir, what is that?"
"Ah. Funny story, actually. I may have slightly overestimated the required voltage for the rewound machinery. When I passed eighty-eight percent on the main dial, it seemed to become a little more enthusiastic than I was expecting. Hopefully once the fuel to the boiler runs out it will stop."
"I see, sir." Removing the now-extinguished jacket, I carefully draped it over a nearby stone lion, intending to arrange to have the maid dispose of it. "While we wait, breakfast is served."
"Capital, Jeeves!" he exclaimed, smiling widely. His mustache quivered with anticipation. "I do hope we have quail's eggs. I adore quail's eggs."
"We do indeed, sir."
"Excellent. Lead the way, my good fellow."
"As you wish, sir." With a slight bow I did as requested.
Half an hour later there was a much more traditional explosion, which echoed across the grounds. His lordship paused in his repast, listening carefully. "That would be the boiler exploding, I expect," he sighed. "How annoying. I will have some difficulty arranging for a new one, that poor steam engine is an antique. Been in the family for eighty years, you know."
"So you informed me, sir," I nodded.
"Pity. Oh well, I expect the show will soon be over."
Unfortunately, some twenty minutes passed with the lights and odd sounds not diminishing, but visibly and audibly growing in intensity. This puzzled my employer considerably.
"Very strange," he commented, putting his teacup down and pushing the saucer to the side as he rose, then paced over to the window to examine the hill beyond which eldritch occurrences were ongoing. "In the absence of a source of power I would have expected it to have stopped by now."
"Perhaps we should investigate, sir. There could be some risk of untoward effects on the house."
"Capital idea, Jeeves. We must proceed at once."
"I will fetch sir's replacement jacket."
"Thank you, Jeeves."
Shortly we were both standing on top of the hill, on the gravel pathway that led down to the old barn which contained the machinery that was providing such a strange performance. I must confess that I was openly staring, although I hope without the slack-jawed look so often seen in people experiencing the out of the ordinary. His lordship, beside me, was doing likewise, and intermittently mumbling under his breath. After some minutes he pulled a small notebook out of his breast pocket and opened it, inspecting the calculations therein.
"In my admittedly uneducated opinion, sir, it would seem to be increasing in activity, rather than decreasing," I noted. It was somewhat concerning, to be frank. There was what could be described as a bubble of lambent energy surrounding the location the barn had been. I say, had been, due to the fact that there was no sign of the building itself. The sight was quite odd.
"Yes, I can see that, Jeeves," he mumbled, retrieving a pencil stub from behind his ear and scratching out one or two numerals, then writing in new ones. Working a complex calculation, he wrote down the final figure, inspected it, then paled slightly. "Oh dear."
"Sir?"
"I… may have made a slight error."
"May one inquire as to what that would entail?"
"You were correct about the non-linear response to voltage with respect to scale. I worked it out to be a square law relationship." He paused, then underlined the figure. "Unfortunately, I missed the minor detail that the output of the machine is operating on a cube law relationship." Looking back at the bubble of light, which appeared to have grown, several yards of ground having disappeared into it, he looked somewhat worried. "I fear that the feedback will keep it going even in the absence of external power sources. That's awkward."
"Certainly an undesired state of affairs, sir," I responded. "Do we have a method of turning it off?"
"Not that I can see at the moment, Jeeves," he stated with a grimace. "Damn and blast. Matilda is going to be furious. It will be eating her flower garden in an hour or so at this rate. I'll never hear the end of it."
"Perhaps we should retire to the house and allow you to consult your references over a brandy, sir," I suggested.
"Excellent thought, Jeeves. A little golden nectar will definitely aid the old brain cells. Let us repair to the study and contemplate the best method to save my wife's roses."
"As you say, sir." We proceed to do just that.
Of course, it wasn't quite as simple as that. His lordship paced the study, pausing every now and then to fetch another learned treatise from his extensive collection, and making notes on the large chalkboard that graced on end of his private study. During this time, the anomaly in the rear gardens steadily increased in size, after an hour and a half consuming the decorative rose garden that her ladyship had spent ten years designing and planting. Needless to say, she was quite miffed, and made her feelings known at length.
Two hours later, the bubble of glowing light was visible over the hill, largely because it had enveloped it entirely. It was coming unnervingly close to the outbuildings and I was pondering the wisdom of suggesting to his lordship that we retire to a somewhat greater distance. One doesn't like to be the bearer of bad news, of course, but needs must.
My employer was still solving fearsomely complex mathematical conundrums on his chalk board, surrounded by technical manuscripts, the notes he'd received from Mr Tesla, and his own documentation. While he was doing this he was muttering under his breath almost constantly, apparently without noticing.
"Damnation," he finally shouted, throwing his chalk at the board where it shattered. "I can see no way to turn it off that doesn't involve entering it. Which is clearly undesirable, not to say impossible. This is going to be very embarrassing."
"I suspect that you may be correct, sir." I looked out the window to gauge the progression of the nearest edge of the light. "There appears to be a steady albeit slow increase in speed, I notice."
As he opened his mouth to reply, the door bell tinkled. "Pardon me, sir, I will attempt to ascertain who is calling."
He waved a hand at me, nodding. "Thank you, Jeeves." Returning to his chalk board and calculations, he produced a fresh stick of chalk and began writing a new set of figures on the board. I headed towards the front door, intercepting the downstairs maid who had been going to perform the same task.
"Return to your duties, Mary, I will answer the door," I said politely.
"Thank you, Mr Jeeves," she replied with a winsome smile, before turning about and heading up the hallway. Reaching the door, I opened it.
"Hello," the figure on the other side said in a cheerful manner, removing her hat as she spoke. Once again, I must admit to a certain amount of staring.
Embarrassing, I realize, but it is somewhat unusual to find oneself in the presence of a humanoid reptilian woman some six inches taller than oneself, wearing a smart leather trench-coat of unusual styling.
And a fedora. A rather elegant one.
Even in Worcestershire this raises eyebrows.
"Sorry to disturb you like this, but I can't help noticing that you seem to have a small spacial distortion behind your house," she went on after a few seconds, which was long enough to allow me to regain my composure. "I'm not sure if you know, but those things tend to keep growing unless you shut them down."
"We have noticed it appears reluctant to cease its activities," I said, still somewhat taken aback. Hopefully I managed to project the correct air of polite attention that is required. "His lordship is most irked, his experimentation has taken a distinct turn for the inconvenient over the course of the day."
"Would you like me to look at it for you?" she offered. "I'm quite good with this sort of thing." After a moment, she frowned a little, then sighed. "My apologies. My name is Saurial." She held out a hand, which I shook carefully. I found the fact that she had a distinct American accent, along with something from possibly much further afield than the colonies, somewhat odd. "I was just passing and noticed the thing. I don't mean to intrude, I just thought I'd offer my experience."
"Thank you, Miss Saurial," I replied as calmly as I could manage. "Under the circumstances, I'm sure that his lordship wouldn't consider it an imposition. Won't you please come in?"
"Thank you, Mr..."
"Jeeves, Miss Saurial. I am the personal manservant to His Lordship Lord Weston, whose abode this is." Standing aside, I waved her in. Entering, she looked around, nodding in approval. "May I take your hat and coat?"
"Thank you, Jeeves," she smiled, handing me the fedora, then removing her coat and doing likewise with it. She was wearing a very high quality silk dress under it, of the latest fashion. It was slightly unusually cut to allow for her long tail and uncommon legs, which were unshod, but looking at them and the sharp claws that terminated each toe, I felt it best not to comment on the fact.
Hanging both garments on the appropriate pegs in the nearby cloakroom, I returned rapidly. "Please follow me, Miss," I said, waving her towards the hallway to my employer's study. "His lordship will undoubtedly be most pleased to meet you."
With a smile she followed, and I have to say I had some trouble suppressing the tiny smile that threatened to cross my face when Lord Weston first set eyes on her. However, after that minor incident, which required another brandy to fully deal with, he was quite sensible. Shortly both of them were deep in an esoteric discussion of which I could follow very little.
Leaving them to it, I went down to the kitchen to see about some tea and biscuits. The proprieties must be observed, after all, even in the face of encroaching luminous doom.
"Are you entirely certain about being unharmed, Miss Saurial?" I asked, since the glowing bubble of light appeared to be voracious in its appetite.
"I'll be fine, thanks, Jeeves," she smiled. It was an unusual smile if only due to the sheer amount and size of the dentition, but I felt it was meant to be reassuring. "I've handled worse. This is a simple class two self-sustaining spacial distortion, they're a nuisance but not difficult to deal with when you know the trick." Looking at the towering half-globe, glowing deep green and emitting virulent violet sparks in copious quantities where it was inching across the rear lawn, she added, "I'll be right back."
With that she stalked across the grass towards it, her gait and posture showing concentration, and disappeared inside without pause. His lordship whistled in a low tone, sounding impressed.
"Unusual young lady, what? But by god she doesn't muck about. Straight in there like a rat up a drainpipe, not a moment's hesitation."
"Indeed, sir, it is most admirable. One hopes that she is successful."
"Quite. Getting a bit close to the house, hmm?" He inspected the progress of the barrier, looking between the rear of the house and the anomaly. "Be undermining the foundations soon. Never hear the end of that."
"Hopefully Miss Saurial will achieve her goal before that occurs, sir."
"Let's hope so." He looked down. "Wine cellar's only ten feet away from it and there are some damn fine vintages down there."
"As you say, sir. It would be a shame to have to restock."
We fell silent, waiting to see what would occur next. In the end, it was somewhat anticlimactic. The bubble of light suddenly winked out, the rumbling crackle that had accompanied it ceasing at the same moment. We both blinked, as the sudden removal of what had become a rather bright light was startling. When we could see again, we looked at the completely flat plane of bare, smoking earth that was all that remained. Even the small hill was gone.
"Capital job!" His lordship clapped his hands. "Wonderful. And look at that, it's as flat as sheet glass. Pity about the gardens, but this would make an excellent croquet lawn with a little reseeding."
"Quite, sir. Possibly a bowls course as well?"
"Damn fine idea. I must make a note." He fumbled for his notebook, writing in it for a moment, then looking around. "Yes, yes, this will do nicely. An unusual method of redevelopment, but most effective. I wonder if it could be commercialized?"
"I fear that it may be considered somewhat avante-garde, sir. People would possibly look askance on a landscaping method that was so… enthusiastic."
"Blast. You're probably right, Jeeves. People these days have no sense of adventure." He shook his head sadly while still writing. In the middle distance I could see Miss Saurial returning, looking quite pleased with the results of whatever act she had performed. When she reached us, she turned and studied the results as well.
"Sorry about the damage, but all the missing stuff is sort of… somewhere else. Not really retrievable. I can make some new ground for you if you want."
"Nonsense, don't trouble yourself my dear girl," my employer exclaimed, looking up from his notes. "This is fine. We've been discussing redoing the gardens for years, this is just the impetus we needed. Thank you very much for your aid."
"Well, if you're sure. And you're welcome." She smiled again.
"You must stay for dinner," his lordship said. "My son is coming home tonight with his new wife, I'm sure they'd enjoy meeting you. We're having roast beef. We are having roast beef, aren't we, Jeeves?" He turned to me.
"We are, sir."
"Wonderful. I love roast beef. Well, my dear? Will you stay?"
"Sure," she replied, appearing amused. "Why not? I like roast beef too."
"I will ensure that another place is set at the table," I said, with a slight bow. "If you'll follow me, Miss Saurial, I will show you to the drawing room."
"After you, Jeeves," she said, waving towards the house with a contented air.
Although I left Lord Weston's service some months later, for a number of reasons feeling that it would be for the best, I stayed in touch with Miss Saurial. She dropped by every now and then, invariably with an interesting story, and proved to be well educated and forthright in her opinions, while always open to those of others. On occasion she would arrive with one or other of her relatives, of which she seemed to have an inexhaustible supply. Over the years since, I have thoroughly enjoyed our intermittent relationship, and hope to see it continue for years to come.