I stifled my feelings of resentment and followed him out of the chamber. Like all the other mysteries that had preceded it, the current one would apparently have a gradual unfolding as well. If nothing else, all my adventures thus far were providing me with an excellent schooling in the art of patience.
Down a long corridor we passed, the damp walls of which, like the room in which I had awakened, were lit by crude torches that emitted a cloying, resinous smoke along with their sputtering light. I noted that the torches were mounted in brass fittings that, as with the ornamentation of the machinery aboard the, submarine, were based upon ancient British and Celtic motifs. The elaborate, intertwined designs, despite all the craft that had gone into their making, now seemed oddly funereal, like the devices upon the tombs of a dead race. The sight of them produced in me a feeling of oppression such as I had felt only once before in my life and that was when Ambrose by his powers had transported me to that chilling spectacle of a ruined London, overrun and murdered by the Morlocks at the very end of Time itself, I shuddered, feeling the cold air of the passageway go through my bones and into my soul, then hurried along behind Clagger.
After many turnings, the corridor at last opened onto a great cavernous space. It was the shore of the underground ocean opposite that from which Tafe, Clagger and I had, set out in the small boat. Its dark, scum-laced waters looked no less foreboding from this side. If anything, it seemed more so, due to my present knowledge of how close I had come to death while crossing it. The still water seeped through the cracks and crumbling ridges of the, ancient masonry that formed its boundary.
"Hocker!" I turned at the sound of someone calling my name and saw Tafe striding across the shore toward me. She now had once again all the appearance of confidence and strength that she had possessed above ground. It was as if by having faced her most inwardly dreaded doom – death by suffocation in the thick and vile waters of the underground ocean – the fear itself was conquered. The sight of her, albeit still in male disguise, was the brightest torch my faltering spirit could have perceived in these, light-starved depths. How much better, it struck me, to have a woman as your comrade rather than as the fawning admirer and house-slave that so many men of my generation unfortunately insist upon! Surely in the future, if there was to be one, such an improvement in attitude would be universal throughout society.
At Tafe's side was a strange figure of a man. Obviously he had once been quite tall, but advancing age had bent his reed-like frame so that the weight of his upper torso was almost entirely supported by the staff clutched in one gnarled hand. Wisps of silvery hair trailed back to his shoulders, and his skin, through being long away from the sunlight, had paled to the translucency of the finest waxed parchment. Tafe curbed the length of her stride so that the old man could keep apace with her as they approached us.
Clagger stepped forward and clasped the old man's free hand in both of his own. "So you thought you had seen the last of me, eh?"
"Hm, well, in this life perhaps." The voice was surprisingly rich and firm, a young man's baritone rather than the fluting geriatric quaver I had expected. "Though I suppose it's a common failing of old crustaceans like us to think upon the end of things too soon." The affection and respect that flowed between the two men was easy to discern.
"Hocker," said Clagger, turning and pulling the other figure toward me. "May I present to you Professor Gough Felknap of Edinburgh University?"
"Late of Edinburgh, I'm afraid," amended the old man. "Late of most people's memories, too, I suppose – however many there are that reach so far back." His red-veined but still clear eyes regarded me.
"Felknap…" I mused aloud. "Of Edinburgh? I seem to recall… must have been before I was born, though I think, I read of it. Wasn't there a stir about your disappearance? And your hall porter accused of your murder, or something like that?"
"Ah, yes, poor Weskind. I didn't mean to get the poor fellow in trouble. Managed to get a letter to an old classmate of mine on the Bench and that got the case dropped, but of course by then an unfortunate air of mystery had been created about the whole thing. Most regrettable, really." He shook his head at the memory, then glanced back at me. "And so you're the leader of this little expedition into deep territory, eh?"
"I could hardly say that," I protested. "I seem to have gone through more of a muddle than anyone else to reach this point."
"Nonetheless, young man, you bear a heavy responsibility." Felknap's keen eyes studied me closely. "Destiny – with perhaps a little assist from Dr. Ambrose – has called upon you for a great service to your land and queen. It is still Victoria up there, isn't it?"
"You know that as well as we do," said Clagger chidingly. "Eh… Just making sure. Things tend to get a little… hmmm… confused down here." He laughed and jabbed the edge of his bony elbow into my ribs. "As you've no doubt noticed."
"Frankly," I said mildly, "I don't have the vaguest notion of where I am or what's going on here. I take it you are acquainted with Dr. Ambrose. You do intend to enlighten me as he would, don't you?"
"All in good time, all in good time," said Felknap. "A lot for you to absorb, young man, and if there's anything I remember from lecturing at Edinburgh it's not to expound faster than ears can take it in. Courage, my lad; all things will be explained presently. But do step down this way a bit. I believe they've just about got their grapples down to the submarine, and I want to make certain it comes up all right. Come along, then."
The three of us, reunited once more, followed Felknap along the crumbling brickwork. "How are you feeling?" asked Tafe.
"Quite well, thanks," I said. "I suppose I owe a bullet-less brain-pan to you."
"Forget it. And don't relax just yet. We're not exactly in a safe harbour down here, you know."
"What do you mean?"
She looked away, her face set in a grim expression. "Just be careful, all right?"
"There, see?" Ahead of us, Felknap halted and pointed a thin arm out to a distant point on the water. "They're bringing it up right now."
I looked and saw a cluster of small boats, perhaps the same ones that had hunted down the hapless Morlocks. As I watched, the men in the boats continued hauling up the numerous ropes that plunged down into the dark water. At last the curved oval of the submarine's top surfaced in the midst of the boats. Rivulets of water ran off the metal plates as several of the men threw additional grappling hooks at the submarine's projections.
"Good, good," murmured Felknap. "Fine work these fellows do."
Without warning, the submarine's immersed bulk shifted, and several of the ropes holding it snapped. The vast bulk below the surface tilted, pulling the ropes out of the grasps of the men. More hooks, thrown in desperation, failed to halt the abandoned submarine's slow descent, The last ropes parted and the curved shape disappeared beneath the water.
"Pity," said Felknap. His age-contorted body sagged with disappointment. "They did all they could, I suppose. It's hard to keep ropes in good condition down here, what with damp and rot getting into them. But it is a shame, though, to lose that submarine. It was the finest of all the Atlantean artifacts in the Grand Tosh." He sighed, looking regretfully at the spot where it had vanished. The boats were wheeling about and rowing back toward the shore where we stood.
"Excuse me," I said. "But did I understand you correctly? Did you say 'Atlantean?'"
"Oh. Yes. Quite." He nodded for emphasis. "The craft was quite ancient, I assure you."
"But- Atlantean? I had no idea…"