Invasion

Fulton's flamboyant behaviour.

A note had arrived by hand from Captain Boyd of the Admiralty, remembering Kydd's earlier visit and cordially inviting him to an evening affair—his friend would be made welcome.

'These are the gentlemen you have to convince, Toot,' Kydd told him seriously, as they arrived. 'They'll be the ones finding men for your submarine and sending them off to fight in it. They'll need to be confident in your plans, I'm thinking.'

The two mounted the stone steps into the Admiralty, Kydd, in deference to his companion, not in uniform. Boyd greeted him effusively. 'So good to see you again. I've heard you had a brisk time of it in the Downs?'

'May I introduce Mr. Francis? He's undertaking some work for—'

'Yes, I've heard. Welcome to London, sir.'

A larger officer with a face of granite loomed behind. It was Gresham. 'We meet again, sir,' he said loudly, to Fulton. 'How convenient. I was just trying to explain to my friend Noakes here how you propose to pay for your little toy.'

'No mystery, sir,' Fulton said icily. 'They're self-funded after the first, as any who attended the committee now knows. Kydd, do explain to these worthy mariners if they're still confused.' He gave the smallest of bows and turned his back.

'Look here, sir—'

'Captain Gresham, Mr. Francis is under pressure t' complete his design. I'm sure—'

'He'll explain to me now how an untried and unworkable gim-crack contraption is going to save us all from Boney or I'll—'

'Gentlemen, gentlemen,' Boyd said, 'this is a social occasion. Not the place to air professional disagreements. Now, can I press you both to a glass of punch?'

The elderly Noakes shifted uncomfortably but seemed determined to have his say. 'Nonetheless, I'd be obliged for a steer in the matter of the morality of all this. As I understand it, if the plunging boat works as advised, we're being asked to sneak up on the enemy like common burglars and—'

'Good God!' Fulton exploded, as he turned back abruptly. 'Do you want to beat the French or no? You think a bunch of cow farmers in red coats is going to stop Napoleon if he lands—there's two thousand invasion craft over there, stuffed to the gunnels with Boney's best! Your only hope is to top 'em in their harbours before they sail. I'd have thought it plain enough for any simpleton.'

He folded his arms and glared at Gresham, who said, with a sneer, 'But it's all to no account. Where are we going to find crews enough to man all these death-traps among our honest tars? They've more sense than to —'

'Come, Mr. Kydd,' Fulton snarled. 'I find there's more important work I have to do. Captain Boyd, I'll thank you for your hospitality and we must leave. Goodnight.' He pushed his way to the door and out into the street.

'Toot, this is not the way to—'

'They were waiting for me. I'll not stand to be a punch-bag for all the doubtin' loobies in the British Navy! I'm away to do my work.'

'I'll call a carriage.'

'No. I need to walk.' He stormed off down the road and Kydd hurried behind.

At an ornate gate Kydd suggested they cut across the park, hoping the pleasant trees and shrubs would calm his mood. After a while Fulton eased his pace. 'You really should not provoke 'em like that, Toot,' Kydd told him. 'They have the ear of Popham, who's very senior and—'

Fulton drew a long breath. 'It's hard, damnable hard.' He sighed. 'I've worked on this for years and still I'm fighting to make 'em understand. When will it all end?'

Kydd had no easy answer. Fulton's hopes of his creation coming alive had already been dashed after months of French bureaucracy. Was the same thing to happen again? And would Britain's only chance to deal directly with Bonaparte's deadly threat vanish?

'The committee is a true one. It'll give you a good report, I'm sure. Just—' He froze. Behind them, tapping steps had broken into a run. Kydd spun round as two men rushed towards them. He threw Fulton to the ground and stood astride him, whipping out his small-sword just in time to catch the first attacker with his weapon. The man gave a howl of pain, dropped his knife and ran for the bushes.

The other stopped and drew out a heavy pistol, hesitating whether to kill Kydd first. A sharp crack rang out; he clutched his bloody face and fell kicking.

'What in hell?' Fulton said, brandishing his pocket pistol as he heaved himself to his feet. 'I've never seen robbers—'

'French assassins,' Kydd said grimly. 'I've got t' get you under protection, m' friend.' He looked round. It were better they were not found on the scene and he dragged Fulton through the bushes to another path.

Fulton pulled himself free. 'I'll not have a posse of redcoats at my tail!' He snorted.

'Then you'll have to stay somewhere a mort safer than your Minories. Until we get word from the committee, you'll be a guest aboard my ship.'

Fulton hesitated. 'Where's she at? Not London, I'd say.'

'In the Downs, only a few hours away. Have no fear, Toot. Deal is a gay enough town, with quantities of ladies to be entertained. However, I do believe you'll be safer in Teazer for the present.' Kydd had sensed his reluctance to leave the capital—the lionising and awe must be a heady brew for one so far from home and on the brink of fame and fortune.

'Mr. Hallum, Teazer has an important guest arriving shortly. It'll only be for a few days, and your cabin . . . ?'

Renzi took the news coldly and announced that he would be detained by his studies.

Fulton arrived and immediately took over the great cabin, spreading out his plans and scratching away at new