Read Online The Curious Case Of The Clockwork Man by Mark Hodder - Free Book Online

you?”
    “Of course I do. Get on with it, man! I have work to do!”
    “You are absolutely certain that your memories will be transferred to the diamonds?”
    “Yes!”
    “Then you illustrate my argument admirably. Nothing in life is certain, Sir Charles. The diamonds are fakes.” He stepped forward and plunged his rapier into the scientist’s heart. “Do you now get my point?”
    Babbage whispered: “Fakes?”
    He died. His corpse slid from Burton’s sword and crumpled to the floor.
    The king’s agent turned and faced the Steam Man.
    The hulking machine stood motionless but for the bellows on its shoulder, which scraped up and down incessantly. Little more than an inch of the cigar remained.
    Bells chimed: “The François Garnier Collection is not genuine?”
    “The stones are onyx crystals.”
    “Impossible.”
    “Look for yourself.”
    Burton stepped back. Brunel lumbered past him and retrieved a stone from Babbage’s hand, holding it up with a pincer while another arm held a magnifying tool in front of it.
    Burton had no idea what the engineer used for eyes.
    “You are correct,” Brunel rang. “Then Babbage is dead and his device is useless.”
    The king’s agent felt his knees giving way. He sheathed his sword.
    “I can’t fight you, Brunel. I’m not sure I can even stand up for much longer. The best I can do is offer some advice.”
    “Advice?”
    “Stop associating with insane scientists. The authorities are already concerned about you after your involvement with Darwin and his cronies. This latest caper will do your reputation no good at all. Redeem yourself, Isambard. Redeem yourself.”
    Even as the words left his lips, the room began to reel and Burton staggered to one side and collapsed onto the floor.
    The massive engineer loomed over him. “Sir Richard, there are those in my faction who would have me kill you.”
    “I don’t doubt it,” Burton whispered, as darkness pushed in at the periphery of his vision. “And I bet John Speke is foremost among them.”
    “You are wrong. Lieutenant Speke is no longer affiliated with the Technologists. He and a small group of Eugenicists absconded to Prussia some weeks ago.”
    Burton’s eyes began to close. “Do your worst,” he said sleepily. “I’m at your mercy.”
    “I would rather make a request of you.”
    “A request? What—what is it?”
    “My fiancée, nurse Florence Nightingale, is missing. She has not been seen or heard of for slightly over a month. Find her for me.”
    “You want me to—”
    “Find her. Will you try?”
    Burton managed to nod. The room tumbled.
    Distant bells: “I shall take Sir Charles and locate a quiet graveyard for him. He so abhorred noise. We will meet again, Sir Richard.”
    Oblivion.
----
    Shouts.
    Gunshots.
    War cries.
    Orange light flickered across the canvas roof.
    John Speke stumbled in. His eyes were wild.
    “They knocked my tent down around my ears!” he gasped. “I almost took a beating! Is there shooting to be done?”
    “I rather suppose there is,” Burton replied. “Be sharp, and arm to defend the camp!”
    A voice came from behind: “There’s a lot of the blighters and our confounded guards have taken to their heels!” It was Lieutenant Herne, returning from a scouting mission. “I took a couple of potshots at the mob but then got tangled in the tent ropes. A big Somali took a swipe at me with a bloody great club. I put a bullet into the bastard. Stroyan’s either out cold or done for. I couldn’t get near him.”
    Have they killed William Stroyan
?
God!
I’m sorry
,
William. It’s my fault!
I’m
so sorry!
    A barrage of blows pounded against the canvas. Ululating war cries sounded. Javelins were thrust through the opening. Daggers ripped at the material.
    “Bismillah!” Burton cursed. “We’re going to have to fight our way to the supplies and get ourselves more guns. Herne, there are spears tied to the tent pole at the back. Get ’em!”
    “Yes, sir!” Herne