The Goddess of the Stars, Part 3

     I’ve no notion of how long I wandered alone in the dark, but it had seemed an eternity since I left my disabled foe to rust and crumble with the ages. My eyes were useless, and I found myself seeking the heat of the central chamber, where the door to the foundries below had been dashed from its hinges. So long as each turn took me into warmer air I was confident I would soon find the central chamber. What I would find and what I would do once I got there were another matter, and my mind raced a the possibility that the monstrosity that had driven us out would be waiting.
     So complete was the silence around me, however, that I could only conclude that whatever had happened had happened to man and machine alike. I fully believed that the goddess’ underground complex had become a tomb, and my only escape now lay beyond the door to her inner sanctum. The fact that the door had been ripped from its hinges by the very devil that had caused the catastrophe did nothing but strengthen my resolve, as I reasoned that the oppressive silence was just as ill-boding for its fate as it was for those of my comrades.
     Such were my thoughts as I stumbled on through the murk, and thus I never realized I wasn’t alone until the passageway before me alit with an ethereal glow so bright that I had to look away. I could hear soft footsteps approaching, however, and I blinked away tears to gaze ahead. For a moment I saw nothing, but soon a shadow appeared at the center of that seering light; a shadow with a distinctly feminine form. For a moment I questioned the reality of what was happening, thinking that surely I was hallucinating. All doubt was removed, however, when she spoke.
     “The sharp hills of your world were green with youth when I and my siblings descended from the stars,” she said, her voice thick and sultry. “We were worshiped as gods, and we loved you for it in return.” My heart pounded as the light surrounded me, and the most beautiful woman I have to this day ever seen approached to stand before me. Dark ringlets of hair cascaded down around her olive face, and her almond-shaped eyes were as blue and bottomless as the ocean. She wore a blue and white flounced skirt and a blouse that left one shoulder bare, and her hair was held away from her face by a gold tiara. She was stunning, and I thrilled as she cupped my chin with her hand to bring my eyes up to hers.
      “We loved you as children, as friends,” she continued, a smile spreading across her face, “and as lovers.” I stood frozen for what seemed a long time, aware that she was drawing closer. Scant inches separated her body from mine, and I began to shake as I felt our body heat mingle. It was in that moment, however, that I became aware of another presence nearby.
     “Your Worship,” he said — for it was indeed a man — in a warmly condescending tone, and by his accent I could tell he was British. “You mustn’t go wandering off into the labyrinth like this, especially with your husband in his current frame of mind.” The woman drew away when she heard this, and as her hand fell away from my chin it was as if a spell was broken. The light about us was no less real, but I was once agan in full control of my faculties.
     “My husband,” she said. “He came to this world with me.”
     “Yes, he did,” the man replied, “and now he needs you to return to your chamber.” Now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see that the light emanated from a lantern the man was carrying. It was little more than a glass jar, really; filled with the same phosphorescent mold that grew in the luminescent caves that dotted the southern mountain ranges. Unlike the phosphorescent algaes of Earth, these molds could light the darkest caverns like the sun. Men were known to go blind in those caves.
     In the near daylight of the lantern, I could see that the man was also from Earth, but his dress was not military. He was, in fact, his suit was just the sort of man I would have expected to see attending the opera or a gala affair. He wore white trousers and a bright lavender shirt beneath his darker vest and overcoat. White lace topped the collar and was bunched at his throat, and his head sported an old-fashioned powdered wig in lieu of a hat. His face also looked pale, and as he turned to regard me I could see that it too was powdered.
     “Ah,” he said with a slight smile. “You must be the American I was told to look out for.”
     “I am the same,” I replied. “How many of our company still live?”
     “They are all quite safe,” he replied. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to them.”
     “They are but children,” the woman said. “Children in need of love. Yes, let’s go to them.”
     “We are going to them,” the man said. Motioning for me to follow, he slipped his free arm into hers and began leading her down the passage.
     “You’re the British ambassador,” I said, falling in step next to him, and he nodded.
     “Edward Atherton, at your service,” he replied, “and this vision of loveliness is —”
     “I am your goddess,” the lady put in, although it seemed that she spoke to no one in particular.
     “She is the goddess.”
     “The sharp hills of your world were green with youth when I and my siblings descended from the stars,” she continued.
     “Yes, my dear. We know, and over the years we outgrew our need for you and your siblings, didn’t we?”
     “My brother went to the red world, and my husband brought me here. Each went to the world of their choosing, taking with them those children who could not be parted from them.”
     “Who is she?” I asked, my interest suddenly piqued, “andHer manner of dress and her speech had begun to tug on a memory from my school days, to say nothing of the ease with which she would previously had bent me to her will. We were walking now through broken passages, and were forced to divert several times around chambers that had collapsed entirely. We were nearing the central chamber again.
     “I would have thought you’d have guessed by now,” Atherton said with a sidelong smile in my direction. “The planet is named for her, after all.”
     My eyes widened. “Venus?” I said. “Which would make her husband —”
     “Vulcan,” came the reply, “although he prefers his older name Hephaistos. You met him earlier.”
     “That thing?” I said. “He was that mechanical monstrosity?”
     “Yes. Bear in mind that they are very old, and while they are quite long-lived they are not immortal. Over the eons Hephaistos has sought to continue his life by adding mechanical parts to his aging body. The result is what you saw.”
     “I don’t understand,” I said. “Venus doesn’t look a day over thirty.”
     “All men want me,” she said to no one as if on cue. “All men love me.”
     “You see what she wants you to see,” Atherton said. “She can bend almost any man to her will with just a thought. The problem is that those thoughts have become...blurred...with age.”
     “She’s senile.”
     “Just like her husband.”
     My mind reeled as we rounded the corner and entered the central chamber. It was a mess. All of the sentry automatons were back in their alcoves, now, save for the one I disabled in the labyrinth, and the shattered statue had been shoved off into the corner. The Royal Guard were hard at work lifting the iron door and propping it back into place, and Hunnicut and his men were gathering the scattered goods we had brought. Several of the men sported field bandages.
     “I found this one while I was out,” Atherton said as he sauntered in on Venus’ arm. “I assume, Mister Hunnicut, that he belongs to you?” Hunnicut backed up a step to make room for the ambassador, and I realized that the ambassador was talking about me.
     “He’s attached to our ship, yes,” came the response.
     “An has his worship been subdued and convinced to return?”
     “He has.”
     “Excellent. Then I shall return the goddess to her bedchamber. She’s had quite the stressful morning.” The ambassador next turned to shake my hand, saying, “It was a pleasure meeting you, although I didn’t get your name. And now if you’ll excuse me...”
     “How do you do it?” I asked. “How do you resist her?”
     “She’s not my type,” he smirked, giving me a wink.
     As the two disappeared behind the shattered door, I turned to Hunnicut. His eyes were still locked on the diminishing forms of the ambassador and the goddess, and I noticed that his face had gone somewhat pale. He stared a moment longer before returning my gaze.
     “Sorry for not warning you about Hephaistos,” he said. “He always goes a little insane when he’s idle, but I hadn’t thought it had progressed as far as it had.”
     “Why has he been idle?”
     “No fire for the forge. That’s what the bulk of the supplies are: coal. Venus has none, and we keep his supply steady in return for our continued presence on this planet.”
     “I, for one, would just as soon be gone,” I said with a glance at the now-dark stairway leading down to Venus’ chambers.
     “By heavens, Major,” he replied, his gaze following mine, “she is beautiful, isn’t she?”

A Tale Told at the Tea Emporium

     Not long ago I sat down for an evening of tea and stories in Lady Finley's Tea Emporium and Steamery. If you've never been, you owe it to yourself to pay them a visit. Ms. Finley's Caravan Tea is to die for, and her mechanical tea servers are a marvel! At any rate, sometime during the evening, Lady Finley asked me to tell the story of how I fell from the Moon to the Earth; a tale which I will now recount here:

     "It is a lengthy tale, but before I begin I would like to send my compliments to the chef regarding these absolutely scrumptious biscuits. I can feel my intestines un-knotting themselves more with every bite! Now, if you'll be so good as to refill my Lapsang I shall endeavor to recall the events as they happened...

     For those who do not know me, I am indeed an American; serving as President Grant's special envoy to Her Majesty's Aether Expeditionary Fleet. It was in this capacity that I found myself on the moon. This was in 1863, back when Lincoln commissioned the first of us to advise the crown on new technologies being developed as a result of the war. The British were, at the time, still insisting that it would be possible to build a shipyard on the lunar surface. I had sternly recommended against such folly, saying that moving the materials from the earth to the moon and back would be impractical at best. Oh, we had already been to the moon, the means of our previous ascension being a dirigible which we'd specially outfitted for the task. The kind of operation they were in need of, however, required a bit more speed with regard to the transit between the two, which I told them at the time was too problematic to be attainable.There was nothing for it, however, as their minds were set.

     They called upon a Frenchman to come up with a suitable method. What was his name? Verne, I believe it was. Yes, something like Jones or Julian. Ah, well. Small matter, I suppose. At any rate, this fellow comes up with the notion that they could fire supplies from a large cannon that would be aimed at the moon, safely ensconced in a craft that would resemble a large bullet. Even went so far as to build the thing. One of the Royal Artists made the picture to the right; that's supposed to be me at the top of the ladder, arguing the practicality of the plan with Mr. Verne (whom I feel was done a great injustice by the artist). I was put in charge of implementing his idea - over my own protests, of course  and it was decided to attempt it first from the moon, as the gravity there is less.

     Even so, we were forced to use a much lighter craft than Verne initially planned, and it was this that proved the undoing of the project. I would suffer no one but myself to test the contraption out, not wanting to risk the lives of any of my subordinates. Everything went well enough at first, but the force of the launch made the craft fall apart around me in the earth's upper atmosphere!

     It was fortunate that it didn't happen earlier, for I should have had the devil of a time trying to inhale pure aether. As it was, the air was quite thin, and it was all I could do to keep from passing out as I fell. I fell for what seemed an eternity, my hand still clenching the logbook and lead I'd taken with me, and to pass the time I took to sketching what I knew no man had ever seen with the naked eye, hoping that at least some good would come from what I believed to be my imminent death. I made the following sketch of the moon:

     This story would have ended right here, were it not for my incredible good fortune of having fallen from the sky directly over Sicily. As you may recall, Mt. Etna erupted in a most violent fashion in 1863, and it was the force of that eruption that slowed my descent. There happened to be a large piece of metal bulkhead from my ship's remains falling in the air near me, and when I saw the cloud of ash and pumice billowing up beneath me I swam through the air until I could position myself on top of it. It was round in shape, and it was my hope that this would enable me to ride the cloud like a sledder on a snow-covered hill!

     Alas, such was not the case. Nonetheless, my descent through the cloud was slowed enough that my impact with the slope of the mountain was survivable, and I rode the piece of metal down the side of the mountain and into the town below! Looking back on it now, it's a miracle I survived, but there you are."

     I'll admit the tale was met with no small amount of skepticism, as is only right in such a sophisticated atmosphere, but I'm happy to report that the veracity of my tale was confirmed by all present. I do believe an account of the exact tale can be found there, along with the discussion that followed.

The Goddess of the Stars, Part 2

     The appearance of the mechanical beast was sudden and violent, ripping the door from its hinges and toppling the clockwork sentries in a single blow. Heat blasted us from beyond the door as the brute shouldered its way in, and the statue of the goddess in the center of the chamber was reduced to rubble in the span of a heartbeat. This new beast was a frightening mass of random machinery; tension coils rippled like muscles on its misshapen torso, cogs spun madly within is iron rib cage, and piston-powered steel arms swung in wide circles. It looked vaguely human in shape, although it lacked the human body's grace and symmetry. One arm was considerably longer than the other, and what could have passed for legs trailed uselessly in its wake as it pulled itself along with clawed hands. Its heart was a steam boiler and its iron head was the furnace. Red-hot coals dripped from its gaping maw.
     The sight alone of such a nightmare would have been enough to send us flying, but the destruction of the door released whatever lever that held the metal guardians in their alcoves, and now these jolted to life as well. Without weapons or firearms, resistance against such fearsome foes was useless, and so out into the labyrinth we fled. Only the Royal Guardsmen remained, seeming to prefer death to the dishonour of retreat, and somewhere above the din I heard Hunnicut shouting at the men to make for our weapons in the antechamber. The Guardians poured out of the chamber then, and for a long while chaos reigned as we scattered like ants before the onslaught. I put up the best fight I could, but took a blow to the head during the running battle, and when I awoke I found myself alone in the dark. Off in the distance I could hear the clank of the Guardians' feet and the shouting of men, but the sound that broke over my ears most often was that of the monster automaton as it careened down random passageways. The entire labyrinth shook as it railed against  the ancient walls, and more than once I heard distant ceilings collapsing over the screams of men and the rattle of broken machines.

     The sounds grew distant as I waited in the impenetrable darkness, and eventually even the tremors from the steam-creature's rage subsided. I was utterly alone. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small tin cannister that Tal Gromin had given me back in the maze's antechamber. Unscrewing the lid, I removed the two cloth chemical pouches inside. As instructed, I mixed these together and added some water from my canteen. I was rewarded with a soft green glow that gave me enough light to just make out the walls and floor of the small room in which I'd been hiding. It was devoid of any decoration or carving, and the domed ceiling arched up and away in the darkness.
     Steeling my nerve for what I expected to be a futile attempt to return to the antechamber, I began to ease my way back down the passageway. I walked for what seemed like an eternity, marking the walls at every intersection with a bit of the glowing paste from the tin to avoid becoming completely disoriented. The floors became increasingly covered with rubble as I crept, and I knew I was coming nearer to where the battle had started. So quiet was the darkness around me, however, that I began to wonder if the rest of the labyrinth had caved in completely, leaving me trapped in what would surely become my tomb. It was at that moment that I heard a faint "clank" down the corridor behind me. I scarce could breathe as I listened, and soon discerned the growing sound of metallic footsteps running towards me. I was being hunted!
     Mind racing, I cast about the rubble in the floor for something to use as a weapon, at last picking up a large brick and hefting it in my hand. It would have to do. I remembered an intersection just behind me where the tunnel opposite the one I was in had collapsed, and I determined to make my stand there. Placing my tin of phosphorous on the floor behind a pile of rubble, I returned to that intersection and hid myself as best I could in the collapsed passageway. I smiled with grim satisfaction at the soft green glow ahead; it looked for all the world as though someone was hiding behind the debris.
     The clanking footsteps had grown quite loud by this time, and I heard them slow as they neared me. I shrank back into the shadows as the ancient automaton walked past my hiding place, its attention focused on my diversion. If the machines were held in their alcoves by a lever in their back, I reasoned silently, then perhaps they have an off switch!
     With all my waning strength I leaped onto the automaton's back. I could feel a number of knobs and access panels. Locking my legs about its torso, I raised the brick over my head with both hands and brought it down repeatedly. The Guardian lunged backward as I did this, nearly crushing the breath out of me as it slammed its back into the wall. Again I brought the brick down, and I heard something crack. The spear in its gauntleted fist clattered to the floor, and my attack ended as abruptly as it had started when the Guardian grabbed my ankle and yanked me unceremoniously off its back. It threw me down the hall towards the sputtering phosphorous, and I heard another crack from within the Guardian's iron chest cavity as it took a step towards me. My attack had been mortal. Two more halting steps the creature took, and with a final shudder it came to a halt. The phosphorous died as I rolled over onto my back, and my last sight before complete darkness took hold was of the now-silent sentinel that stood above me, metal fist poised for a blow that would never fall.


To Be Continued....
    

The Goddess of the Stars, Part 1

     I was never the same after I met her.
     It was the first time I had been in the wildlands of Venus, where the green clouds boiled across the sky and the craters filled the heat-baked valleys that ran like cracks through the Obsidian Mountains. It had taken us five days to reach the entrance to the underground complex, and we spent another three days just inside the door, waiting for the dust storm to blow over before we could even think about bringing the promised supplies in after us.
    Below, the maze of tunnels slithered out in all directions, vanishing in the brown subterranian murk like tricks of the mind. The sculpted reliefs along the stone walls reminded me of the friezes from the Parthenon, and I marvelled that such similarities could be found on so distant a place as Venus. The sentries' clanging steps echoed down these corridors as they plodded ahead of us, their lurching gait making their phosphorous lamps weave in the darkness as we followed them in toward the inner sanctum.
    "Cor!" someone behind me said. "And don't these mechanical monstrosities give me a chill?"
    "Button it up, Mister Parker," Lieutenant-commander Hunnicut growled over his shoulder. "If I hear one more break in your discipline it'll be the thrusters for you when we return!" The thruster chamber was the hottest and most unbearable place to work aboard an aethership like the "Sovereign," due in no small part to the hydrogen being burned in the thrusters directly aft. Parker buttoned it up.
    "Your men seem jittery," Tal Gromin said, his green skinned face barely hiding his sneer. "Are you sure they wouldn't rather wait in the antechamber?" Hunnicut ignored him, but his face was stony. Tal Gromin and his  Royal Guardsmen had been tasked with accompanying us, as only they knew the secret of operating the clockwork sentries. There was no love lost between the British and the Venusians, but theirs was an alliance of necessity for only the British had been able to negotiate with the Goddess. There were six guardsmen with us, and despite the fact that they'd left their axes in the antechamber with the Brits' firearms, they had a fearsome look about them. Whether it was more from their imposing size or their glowing yellow eyes I could never decide, but their British counterparts gave them a wide berth either way.
    We stopped in a large round chamber after what seemed an eternity, and Tal Gromin's men took up a defensive perimeter. The clockwork sentries lurched to a closed door in the opposite wall and turned to face us. Standing just over ten feet tall, they too were an imposing sight, with intricate assemblies of cogs and coil springs covered and protected by plates of bronze armor. Long plumes bristled from helmets that adorned faceless heads, and I realized for the first time that the armor - like the carvings on the walls - was styled in similar fashion to that of the ancient Greeks. Moreover, the stone statue at the center of the chamber looked for all the world like a goddess from one of Homer's epics.
     There were other mechanical figures standing silently in alcoves along the walls, and judging by the cobwebs these looked to have been standing in situ for a very long time. A closer inspection, however, revealed spring coils at maximum tension, as though they were set to leap into action at a lever's release. They clearly had a different function than the sentries we'd been following. I glanced at the heavy swords in each robotic claw and wondered little about what would happen should these fearsome automatons be activated.
    It was warmer now, much warmer even than the surface of the planet had been, and I could hear the distant thrum of machinery beyond the door. By contrast even the persistent clacking of the sentries' gears seemed small and quiet. The "Sovereign's" crew had finished stacking the crates we'd brought as a token of our goodwill towards the Goddess, and I took advantage of the momentary pause to speak with Hunnicut.
     "Do you suppose anything is wrong?" I asked. "I understand it's been a while since our ambassador went incommunicado."
     "Her dealings with all of our ambassador's predecessors have gone ill," he replied without turning.
     "How so?"
     "Apparently no man can resist her will," came the reply. "That's part of the reason our weapons were left in the antechamber."
     "I don't understand."
     "It's to minimize the risk of us being persuaded to use them on each other," Tal Gromin said from across the room. Several of the crew exchanged worried glances.
     "She's that persuasive?"
     "Seductive is more like it," Hunnicut said. "We tried sending in a female representative once, but even she fell under the Goddess' spell."
     I shifted uncomfortably. "So then it's serious," I said. "This new ambassador may have likewise been...."
     "Seduced?" Hunnicut replied with a smirk at my embarrassment.  "Not bloody likely; not this fellow. No, there must be something else going on." A boom sounded from deep beneath the floor, shaking the room. Another followed, and I shot Tal Gromin a questioning look.
   "The Goddess is the least of our worries," he said. "It sounds as though something has angered her consort."


To Be Continued...