issued death threats against you, you went into hiding, but by then your face was familiar to the general public and it certainly didn't have that horrible big bonce towering over it. In other words, the machinery encasing you wasn't required until a later date. Yet '59 is also the year Brunel died, therefore he cannot possibly have designed it.'
Again, the horrid rattle sounded.
'The poet makes a logical argument, though the solution to the apparent paradox is simple.'
'Oh, really?' said Swinburne, sarcastically. 'Please enlighten me!'
'Brunel,' came the response. 'Step forward.'
To the left of the throne, one of the huge pieces of machinery suddenly rose from the floor with a loud hiss of steam and clanged forward.
The most famous and successful engineer in the world, if this was truly Brunel, was no longer the short, dark-haired, cigar-chomping man of memory.
He stood on three triple-jointed metal legs. These were attached to a horizontal disk-shaped chassis affixed to the bottom of the main body, which, shaped like a barrel lying on its side, appeared to be constructed from wood and banded with strips of studded brass. There were domed protrusions at either end of it, each bearing nine multijointed arms, each arm ending in a different tool, ranging from delicate fingers to slashing blades, drills to hammers, spanners to welders.
A further dome rose from the top of Brunel's body. From this, too, arms extended-six in all-though these were more like tentacles, so long and flexible were they. Each ended in a clamplike hand.
At various places around the body, revolving cogwheels poked through slots in the wood, and on one shoulder-it was impossible to say whether it was the left or right because Brunel had no discernible front or back-a pis- tonlike device slowly rose and fell. On the other, something resembling a bellows pumped up and down, making a ghastly wheezing noise. Small exhaust pipes expelled puffs of white vapour from either end of the barrel.
Amid all the electrical machinery, this great steaming hulk seemed strangely primitive.
It thumped across the floor and squatted at Swinburne's side.
A hot cloud blew from one of its vents and rolled over the poet's face.
Bells chimed from the bulky mechanism.
'Our dear friend Isambard's voice takes some getting used to,' said Darwin. 'He just confirmed that he is very much alive.'
Swinburne laughed. 'I'm dreaming!' he cried. 'I'm dreaming!'
'Most interesting,' said Darwin. 'Observe how the poet denies the input of his senses. This is a fascinating reaction. We suggest a rupture between the corporeal sense of existence and the acquired sense of intellectual identity. Indeed. Algernon Charles Swinburne quite literally cannot believe his eyes. See how they have lost focus. We propose that this is a symptom of the medical condition termed `shock,' caused, in this instance, by the unfamiliarity of his environment. Were he of the lower order of beasts, this would ensure his destruction. Let us continue with this diverting experiment. Perhaps a brief explanation of Brunel's continued existence will bridge the rupture? Yes, but wait; we have opened a further path of investigation. We are intrigued by the possibility that a being, when placed in an environment that is alien to it, might react in this manner. If evolution is a matter of adapt or die, then is not shock entirely counterproductive to the process? Why, then, does the condition of shock exist? What is its function? We must experiment further. Agreed. However, let us first continue with our faux chimney sweep.
'Algernon Charles Swinburne, what you are looking at might be termed a life-support machine. It is steam- powered, to allow full mobility, for the Engineers have not yet created a technique whereby sufficient electrical power might be stored in a portable container. Our colleague Isambard had himself placed inside the machine in 1859. It has kept him alive since, enabling his continued rule of the Technologists.'
'Well, this is all very nice,' mumbled Swinburne, as far as possible cow ering away from the gigantic form of Brunel. 'But to get back to the bloody point, why are you abducting chimney sweeps?'
Darwin's bony fingers flexed. 'Ah. He regains focus. Excellent! Shall we tell him? Yes, proceed. We need fear nothing, for he will be destroyed shortly. Algernon Charles Swinburne, at some future period, not very distant as measured by centuries, the civilized races of man will almost certainly exterminate and replace the savage races throughout the world.'
'Is that so?'
'It is the evolutionary path. The questions which form the basis for our experimental programme are these: Can the British Empire, as the dominant civilised race, hasten the process? What form shall the future Empire take? And which physical attributes will prove most beneficial to the people of the Empire? To this end, our experiment is comprised of three elements.
'The first is designed to remove the burden of survival from the Empire's citizens in order that they may concentrate exclusively upon the development of their scientific and inventive skills. Thus, Mr. Brunel is overseeing the rapid introduction of machines which will, ultimately, fulfill all the material functions required to sustain life, from the provision and distribution of food to the creation and maintenance of dwellings.'
'And what of those of us who don't want to be scientists?' interrupted Swinburne.
'The second branch of our experiment has been designed to deal with such as you. It concerns selective breeding-eugenics in its purest form. The greater mass of humanity, which has not yet evolved the ability to think rationally, is disordered and unpredictable. It is driven by animal desires which, even after the machines eliminate hunger and want, will continue to slow the evolutionary process. We therefore intend a biological intervention to bring order to the masses, a programme through which each individual will gain a specialism that contributes to the whole.
'Using chimney sweeps as our test subject, we are manipulating their biology in order that they and their descendants remain small in stature, a form which is ideal for the function they perform. Indeed, we are enhancing the boys by breeding into them additional characteristics which will serve them well in their specialism. We aim to follow their progress through successive generations, and, once the technique is perfected, we will create other specialisms, such as miners with perfect night vision, labourers with immense physical strength, and so forth. The greater mass of humanity will become as a machine, its separate parts functioning smoothly, the whole mechanism serving the scientists.
'The third aspect of the experiment, which is being conducted by our colleague Nurse Nightingale-'
Swinburne let loose a gasp, for he knew of Florence Nightingale; it was rumoured that Richard Monckton Milnes had proposed to her ten years previously, and, though she refused him, his continued attentions had driven her to a nervous breakdown.
11 -involves the raising of the lower beasts to a level where they might serve humanity more effectively.'
Swinburne interrupted again: 'Your wolf-men are an example of this?'
'Observe his impulsive inquisitiveness,' harmonised Darwin and Galton from the single, grotesque body. 'He has not the patience to gather all the facts before formulating his enquiries but must express each question the moment it occurs to him. This is not the behaviour of an evolved mind. Nevertheless, we must address him on his own terms, else how will he understand?
'Algernon Charles Swinburne, you are correct: the creatures are not men made wolves, but wolves made men. We must confess, our methodology in this area requires a great deal more testing and analysis before we can perfect it. The wolf-men have an unfortunate biological imbalance which causes a propensity for spontaneous combustion. Nurse Nightingale is looking into the problem.'
'I hope she burns her fingers!' muttered Swinburne.
'We will continue. There exists a secondary experiment which combines aspects of the first and third programmes. It involves the mechanical enhancement of the human form. Behold.'
Darwin gestured to Swinburne's right. The poet looked but saw only bulky contrivances, sparking electrodes, cables, pipes, flashing lights, and objects his eyes could barely interpret.
Something moved.
It was the front of a large lozenge-shaped contraption, a slab of metal into which dials and gauges were set, standing upright but inclined slightly backward. It occurred to the poet that it somewhat resembled a sarcophagus, whose lid was now lifting of its own accord.
White vapour burst from its sides and fell as snowflakes to the floor.
The lid slid forward then silently glided to one side, revealing the contents within.
