From the Earth to the Moon Ch. 07

There was a low murmur of excitement and curiosity as a confused Sonya joined James on the stage. James held the foil wrapped package in his hands and Sonya, upon gaining a nodding approval from the Japanese Consular, began opening up the box. Inside were a few rectangular cardboard pieces with holes punched in them, along with a binder of what appeared to be diagrams and notes describing the diagrams. Sonja started thumbing through the books, getting more and more excited.

"Is this what I think it is? And does it work?" Sonya said, her eyes darting between the Japanese Ambassador and the binder in her hands.

Ambassador Kido nodded. "The young man who made those illustrations, Yazu Royoichi, patented a mechanical calculator at a very early age, and is considered something of a prodigy. He possesses several of the writings of a number of your esteemed scholars on the science of mechanical computation. It was after the death of Charles Babbage that my young countryman wished nothing more than to see Mr. Babbage's vision fulfilled. My Emperor welcomed the opportunity for the advancement of sciences in Japan, and it is the Emperor's wish, as well as our young Japanese inventor's, that Yazu Royoichi might be allowed to travel to St. Lucia to work on the great Moon Project, and to build a copy of his machine for that Project's uses."

"James, do you know what this is?" Sonya asked excitedly. "This is an Analytical Engine! If these notes are correct, we could have an actual, working Analytical Engine right here on St. Lucia!"

James, feeling somewhat lost, asked, "Is that good?"

"Oh, it's more than good! It is...oh, I have to go show this to Deedra!" As Sonya ran off into the crowd, James shouted out after her, "Excuse me, but I believe that's my birthday present!", which got a general chuckle from the crowd.

Turning to the Japanese Consular General, James said, "Ambassador Kido, I can only speak for myself, and I guess you have some talking to do with some other folks on the island but, judging from the excitement of our chief mathematician, I'd say the help of your young inventor and the Japanese people as a whole would be most welcome. Thank you very kindly, sir."

The Consular General gave James a smile and shook James' hand in the western style before returning to the crowd. Realizing it was his turn to say a few words, James ran his hand through his hair before beginning.

"Well, first of all, I would like to say that as far as birthday celebrations go, this has been one of my best, even if I didn't get to keep all the gifts people gave me," James said, which garnered a laugh from the crowd, even as Sonya Kowalevski and Deedra Helmholtz pored over the diagrams and notes of James' gift in the back of the room, oblivious to everyone and everything around them.

"And I also have to say I consider myself the luckiest man in the world, because on my birthday, I will be here, on this island, watching as a rocket ascends to the heavens. Tomorrow we will be able to begin answering the questions man has asked himself since he first gazed up at the stars. Undoubtedly, once we begin our explorations, we will raise more questions than we can answer, but I look forward to that as well. And I think it should be noted that, even though this project began with a pledge made by one man, this is the culmination of the work of many men and women. We are doing this together. I don't doubt that, in the years to come, there will be some men who weren't here who will try to claim credit for this success, and the successes to follow, but I think History will laugh at them, and instead remember the hard work of the men and women who were actually here, who gave their sweat, their inspirations and their hopes to this shared dream of men and women everywhere. Tomorrow, we will begin our climb to the stars above, and see what lies beyond."

There was a rousing applause as James stepped down and was met by Lord Brent. "I think we shall have to run you for Parliament, James," Lord Brent said, shaking his hand. Lady Brent reached up and gave James a quick peck on his cheek. "Very well done, James. Now then, you need to first attend to the Japanese Consular General and his daughter, after which I wish you to greet our new Deputy Governor-General, who will undoubtedly ask you to escort his grandniece onto the floor. Then, since my mother for reasons you do not care to divulge wishes it, you can seek out Ms. Olivier. After that, I wish you to have a dance with Emily Waggoner. No arguments, James, I've had enough of them with Emily as it is. Once you're finished, I will expect to have the remainder of your dances. You can find me with my Mother when you are finished." With a smile, Sarah made her way through the crowd back to her mothers' side.

James looked at Lord Brent and shrugged. "I would have sworn I had been discharged from the army a few years ago, but I guess I was wrong." Lord Brent chuckled, then gave his friend a shooing motion.

The first two dances that Lady Brent had assigned James went well. General Consul Kido and Deputy Governor General Baker were both the kind of men that James tried to emulate, and James could have spent hours in the company of either man, listening to the tales of their lives. General Consul Kido's daughter, Kumiko, was a shy, polite young woman who seemed very impressed with the faint red streak on James' shirt, and asked questions about James' time in the American West.

James wasn't sure what to make of Metetini. The Deputy Governor General simply introduced her as the granddaughter of his younger brother, and left it at that. She was a very beautiful woman, and the light blue dress she wore accentuated perfectly her dusky skin, long dark hair and enticing curves. Her accent was a mix of British, French and something else entirely, and with her musical laugh and the ease which she moved in his arms, made James easily understand why any man would become quickly enchanted with her.

Each of the young women's guardians had asked James if they would have a word with the members of the ethernaut corps about the young woman in their charge. That was easy enough to do. All James had to do was find Wonko.

If the young German prince was the island's most accomplished ornithopter pilot, Ian "Wonko" Cargill was undoubtedly the island's craziest. But James had to admit that there was a method to the man's madness. All the official ethernaut corps (which excluded the Prince) could be called on to test a new variation or model of a vehicle associated with the island's many projects. Wonko, however, was usually every inventor's choice. He had a knack for instinctively recognizing a new invention's limits and possibilities.

Wonko was, in a word, a character. Originally from the south island of New Zealand, he had made his way across the globe in a varying number of occupations and ended up on St. Lucia as a test pilot for Otto Lilienthal and, at Otto's recommendations, had become part of the burgeoning ethernaut corps. If even half the stories Wonko told about his travels were true, he had lived a very interesting life from a very early age.

Wonko only came to events like these for two reasons: the free food and the possibility of a fight breaking out. Wonko wouldn't start a fight, but if a good fight started, he saw no reason to let it go to waste. As far as women were concerned, Wonko stuck strictly to brothels. "You always pay for it, Chief," Wonko had remarked to James once. "At least the girls I pay are honest about it."

James had just left the Deputy Governor-General and his grandniece when he saw Wonko, a large plate in his hand and a smile on his face as he made his way down the sideboard.

"Hey, Chief. Happy birthday!," Wonko said with an icing encrusted grin. "I had a piece of the cake the Germans made for you. Great stuff!"

"Thanks, Wonko. Listen, can you do me a small favor?"

"Anything, Chief."

"See that young woman over there? And that one over there?" James pointed out Kumiko and Metetini. "Pass the word to the rest of the Corps that they're off limits. You don't have to say anything to Lord Brent or the Prince."

"You got it, Chief."

Wonko took his plate of food, a merry smile on his face, as he began hunting down his fellows.

One problem solved, James thought to himself. Let me take care of this favor for Lady Brent's mother, and then...

And then, James hoped, something would intervene before he had to ask Emily Waggoner for a dance.

James looked around for the young French woman and found her against the wall, a look of discomfort on her face, with a 'gentleman' practically leaning on top of her. James recognized the other man immediately. The other man had once tried to press himself on Sarah's maidservant. Lord Brent had proceeded to upbraid the man, but eventually James had decided to cut to the chase, taking the man out into the street for a little American-style justice. It appeared to James that the man's attention were as unwanted now as they were then.

James walked up to the two, tapping the other man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, I was wondering if..."

"Buzz off, we're busy," the other man said, not bothering to look back.

James grabbed the other man by the shoulder and spun him around. The other man's eyes narrowed in anger, then suddenly widened in recognition.

"I must say the bruises have healed up nicely," James said in a low voice. "Now, I was going to ask this young lady for a dance, so perhaps you might go...elsewhere."

The other man's face and eyes went through an assortment of colors and proportions before he abruptly nodded and stormed off. Turning to the young French woman, James said, "Miss Olivier? I have not had the pleasure of being introduced to you before, but I believe we have mutual friends. My names is James Davidson, and I was hoping I might have the privilege of escorting you to the dance floor."

"Mr. Davidson," Maria said, giving James her best dimpled smile, "how could I refuse the dashing man who rescued me so gallantly? I would be honored."

James wasn't sure what he was expecting from the young French woman whom he was now dancing with, but whatever it was, he was pleasantly surprised. Marie was a charming, pleasant young woman with an engaging smile and musical laughter. With a French accent overlayed by a hint of her British education, everything that Marie said was enchanting and entrancing. James did notice that on more than one occasion, Marie would adjust her décolletage, trying to make it more modest, but James didn't overly concern himself with this action. He just assumed she might be feeling uncomfortable, especially considering the vantage point their difference in height afforded him. James simply made sure that he did not appear to be giving undue attention to Marie's cleavage.

What was disconcerting to James was the manner in which Marie's guardian was staring at him from the distance. The look she was giving him wasn't disapproving or protective of her ward. It was a look of expectation. But what was the older woman expecting to happen?

For her part, Marie found herself mesmerized by the red stain on James' chest. She, like everyone else at the gala, had heard of James' adventure, and it had allowed her to entertain a plan that she had been harboring for some time. There was also the fact that James was making a concerted point of not staring down at her exposed bosom in the indecent dress that Madame Dubois had forced on her. And there was certain rough charm about this American ethernaut; if at least half of the stories of his gallantry were true...

When the song ended, Marie asked James if he would escort her to the sideboard. When James offered his arm, she gladly accepted it. As James escorted her to the dining and drinking fare, she asked, "Mr. Davidson, I realize I am taking a great deal of liberty asking you this, but I need your assistance."

"Of course, Miss Olivier. It would be my pleasure," James said, wondering what simple task this young woman would set him. Perhaps she was hoping to secure seats for herself and her guardian at the official viewing stand for tomorrow's launch.

"I am...", Marie paused, wondering if she had the courage to take this last step, particularly when she needed the assistance, and discretion, of a perfect stranger. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Marie decided to plunge unhaltingly into her plea.

"I am seeking sanctuary from my guardian, Mr. Davidson, and I need your help in securing it. I will not go into details, but I fear my best interests are no longer served by Mr. Dubois."

To James' credit, even though he felt as if he had just been poleaxed, he was able to maintain a semblance of calmness. "I'm not really sure what I can do, Miss Olivier."

A crack appeared in Marie's projected cosmopolitan air. "Please, Mr. Davidson. I have nowhere else to turn to."

James looked around, hoping for some inspiration. When he spotted a familiar redhead, holding court among with the two prestigious journalists, James turned to Marie. "I have a plan, Miss Olivier. Or I should say, I believe I know who we can turn to assist us in your situation."

With Marie in tow, James made his way to Katherine O'Sullivan.

"And here is our man of the hour now," Katherine announced as she caught sight of James. "Mr. Davidson, may I introduce Mr. Robert Snead of the Pall Mall Gazette, and Mr. Johan Beach of the New York Associated Press."

"A pleasure, gentleman," James said with a nod of his head. "If you'll excuse me a second, I need to steal Miss O'Sullivan for a few minutes."

As James led Katherine and Marie to a secluded corner, he felt the eyes of the newsmen follow him.

Katherine confirmed what James was thinking when she said, "They're going to be wondering what's going on, particularly since you have two women in your company. By the way, I'm Katherine O'Sullivan," Katherine told Marie, extending her open hand, "sometime spokeswoman for the Edison Moon Project and now, it appears, more than occasional conspirator with the Project's chief ethernaut."

Marie, startled by having Katherine extend her hand in a masculine greeting, gingerly grasped the proffered hand. "Marie Olivier."

"A pleasure. So, James, what about Miss Olivier needed a private word with me?"

James outlined his conversation with Marie, and Katherine nodded. "It's an open secret that you're guardian is a spy, though no one is sure who she's working for."

"I've belatedly became aware of this fact this evening. She...well, Madame Dubois wanted me to take certain actions on her behalf tonight," Marie said, her eyes downcast as a blush came to her cheeks. James was curious about what Madame Dubois' plans were, but decided this might be an inquiry that Katherine or someone else should make when he wasn't present.

Katherine paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts, before she explained, "If Miss Olivier were anyone else, it would simply be a matter of presenting her before a local magistrate to assure him that she isn't be coerced into something into something. And Miss Olivier, you are quite fortunate that you approached Mr. Davidson to assist you. His halo is a bit tarnished at times, but our Mr. Davidson is a gentleman despite his best efforts to pretend otherwise," Katherine said with a saucy wink to James. James had the good grace to blush but remain silent.

"His reputation as a knight errant precedes him, but I'm glad that you confirmed my opinion, Miss O'Sullivan," Marie answered with a smile.

"I do appreciate the flattery ladies, but I'm still not sure how to proceed," James added.

"It would help if you garnered the support of the three principals on the island, James." Katherine explained. "The French situation...well, you would think there wouldn't be reverberations with a ward leaving her French governess and guardian, but things like this sometimes spin out of control in a way that no one can predict. Meaning no offense, Miss Olivier."

"None taken, Miss O'Sullivan," Marie assured her.

"I will talk to his Highness about it," James offered, "and I'm sure he will secure the German legation's support. And I can guarantee the British support," James added, recalling his conversation with Lady Brent's mother.

Katherine raised an eyebrow but simply replied. "That only leaves our American representative. Meaning Undersecretary William Waggoner. Meaning..."

"His daughter Emily." James said in a resigned tone. On something even mildly involved, Undersecretary William Waggoner would delay making any decision until he sent word to Washington D.C. and received a reply. Most people avoided involving him in any decision making process if they could. Only his daughter could (occasionally) get him to make a decision without consulting his superiors. The same daughter who held James in such low regard. "Katherine, is all this political maneuvering really necessary? I mean, Miss Olivier really doesn't need a guardian anymore, so why not just help her leave, without all the sneaking around?"

Katherine turned to Marie. "Miss Olivier, please forgive me my bluntness. James, Miss Olivier receives funds from a collection of British aristocracy for reasons speculated on but not outright confirmed. Because of this, the Governor-General is going to be less than enthusiastic to act against her guardian, Miss Dubois. And if he won't act, neither the Germans nor the Americans will, so as not to upset their British partners. Which has allowed Miss Oliver's guardian to act with a certain amount of impunity, and that woman knows exactly where the lines are."

"Politics," James said, rubbing his temples. The only time he had to venture into that arena was when he gave tours to dignitaries or small speeches at gatherings like this. And now here he was involved in a clandestine act. James didn't understand the reasons the act had to be clandestine. But apparently Katherine and others did, so he had to rely on their say-so. "So I'll go and talk to Emily Waggoner."

"James, you might want to let someone else handle that conversation," Katherine replied.

"No, it's time me and Miss Waggoner ended this feud between us. Miss Olivier, will you be allowed to have another dance with me?"

"Absolutely.," Marie said with an emphatic nod, "Madame Dubois will insist upon it."

James nodded. "On our next dance, then, Miss Olivier, I'll get you away. Katherine, will you mind playing hostess to Miss Olivier until I can think of something more permanent?"

"Miss Olivier, it will be my pleasure to share my home on the island with you," Katherine replied, which earned a smile and a small curtsy from Marie.

"Then when you see me take Miss Oliver out on the dance floor, make your way to the ballroom's entrance. We'll meet you and proceed from there," James instructed. "For now, Miss Olivier, I'll escort you back to your guardian, and then I'll need to prepare to enter the den of the lioness."

James made a grand show of thanking Miss Oliver for the dance in front of her guardian, as well as securing the promise of another one. The smug smile on Madame Dubois' face made him wonder what the woman's plans were for him. Maybe he should get one or two of the Pinkertons involved. No, James decided, they'd probably just want me to walk away from the situation. And for better or worse, he had committed himself to separating Marie Olivier from her guardian.

Now for the last task at hand, James mentally sighed, before he could allow himself to seek out Sarah again.

James looked around the ballroom and saw Emily Waggoner standing near one of the sideboards, holding a glass of champagne while gaily laughing at something one of the men around her had said. Trying to relax his face from the grimace it wanted to set itself in, James made his way toward her.