Episode 139: Steamplunk
"A K-class fleet submarine!" exclaimed Iverson. "However did Fuller get
hold of that?"
"I imagine the Admiralty wanted to get rid of the vessel," said Everett.
"An understandable attitude in their part."
"Why?" asked the lieutenant. "It was a modern warship."
Everett glanced at Iverson and repressed a smile. The youth still seemed to
have an unreasonable faith in the wisdom of high command. "The K's were one
of the Warís more ambitious concepts," he replied, "a steam-powered
submarine, fast enough to keep up with a dreadnought when surfaced. This
would have been impossible to achieve with a diesel plant. One can imagine
how such an exercise in technology would appeal to our Mister Fuller."
"A steam engine?" Iverson was incredulous. "On a submarine? However did
"It was not an unqualified success," said Everett dryly. "The boats met
their design speed easily enough on the surface. But whenever they wished
to dive, they had to draw the fires, shut down the turbines, lower and seal
off the stacks, and close any number of ventilators -- without anyone on
deck to make sure they were secured properly. With practice, they could
manage this fairly quickly, but there was always that nagging fear the
subsequent submersion might prove permanent."
"How were the vessels armed?"
"Jenkins?" asked Everett.
"According to Janeís, the builders experimented with a variety of different
deck guns," said the signalman. "Mister Fullerís boat is the K-6, from the
yard at Devonport. Its specifications called for a pair of BL 4-inch naval
guns, though itís not clear these were ever installed. But the primary
armament would be ten 18" torpedoes."
"Thatís not something you find every day," observed Iverson.
"It may not be something you find any day," said Jenkins. "I imagine Fuller
was forced to manufacture some form of substitute."
"That must be what he used against the Ostrovnaya Devushka," mused
Everett. "This might explain why the ship didnít go down more quickly. Our
Mister Fuller seems to have some difficulties turning theory into practice.
What else have we learned?"
"Iíve finished examining the material Mister Iverson brought back from Eua,"
said Jenkins. "The island seems to have been quite a popular destination.
We have cigarette butts from Russia, England, and Germany, a tin of Ettan
snus, a flask that might have held vodka, several empty bottles of Bass Ale,
and an empty bottle of schnapps -- quite a good brand, I might add. We
also have drag marks left by two Transporters: an older set I assume were
the work of our friends with the mysterious cruiser and a newer set thatís
consistent with German equipment.
"This does rather muddy the waters," said Everett. "What did our prisoner
have to say?"
"According to him, Miss Helga arrived six days ago, just as Fuller and the
Russians were moving a safe full of records and charts to the..." Jenkins
sighed, "...Skerry Lady. Our informant exercised the better part
of valor during the ensuing scuffle, so he wasnít particularly well-placed
to observe the outcome, but it appears the Russian leaders escaped with
Fuller, and Miss Helga set off in pursuit. Indications are that MacKiernan
and his companions accompanied Miss Helga."
"Why didnít they just wait here for us?" asked Sarah.
"They must have felt time was of the essence," said Everett. "They would
have left a message in our shipís private code, but this will almost
certainly have been discovered and taken by one of the parties that came
after them. Did our prisoner witness either of the landings?"
"He seems to have been lost in the jungle at the time," said Jenkins, "but
he did see the airships fly over. The first could only have been the
mysterious cruiser; I canít think of any other vessel that size with that
engine configuration. She appeared five days ago: the same day we
encountered her off Fiji. The second showed up two days later. This was
an older-style ship with German lines that sounds remarkably like the
"The Fat Man," said Iverson apprehensively.
"Or one of his agents."
"I suppose it was only a matter of time before he reentered the game," said
Everett. "With so many players about, weíll have a devil of a time keeping
track of them all."
"Whatever are these people up to?" asked the lieutenant in annoyance. "It
seems that everyone knows whatís going on but us."
"If I had to venture a guess, Iíd say theyíre all after the Russians and
their records," said Everett. "I imagine these describe where the second
Device is hidden."
"And without MacKiernanís hypothetical message, our only lead is that
submarine," said Jenkins. "This doesn't seem particularly helpful. Itís
rather the nature of submarines to remain unseen."
"Leave that to me," said Pierre.
Eyes turned to the Frenchman.
"You know where it is?" asked Jenkins. Everett imagined he detected a
certain amount of professional jealousy.
"No," said Pierre, "but I know how to find it. This bateau of Fullerís will
need maintenance, and zee black market in used submarine parts cannot be so
very large. I am a businessman. I know where to ask about such things."
Captain Everett finished the log entry, set down his pen, and sighed. An
already confusing situation had become even more confused.
December 5, 1926. Lat 19 39' S, Long 174 42' W. Cleared Eua 1830 heading
020, airspeed 45 knots, wind SE 10. It appears that the White Russian
exiles, led by Grand Duke Mikhailovich and some unidentified superior, have
made common cause with Fuller and the British Union. Evidence suggests they
departed Tonga on or around November 30 aboard Fullerís submarine (ex HMS
K6, commissioned 8 November 1915, sold 22 October 1925) pursued by agents of
several government and anti-government organizations as well as a private
individual acting on her own initiative. In the absence of specific
knowledge regarding their intentions, we intend to investigate Fullerís
logistics trail to identify possible destinations.
"Sir?" asked Jenkins. Heíd been with Everett long enough to recognize when
his captain was worried.
"I grow concerned about Mister MacKiernan," said Everett. "I have faith in
the commanderís judgment in any ordinary circumstances, but his current
situation is far from ordinary.
This enterprise of the Russians seemed to have drawn every conspirator in the
South Pacific out of the woodwork. One marvels at the coincidence.
One also cannot help but wonder if some other plan may be at work."
"You suspect the Fat Man may be behind all this?"
"Perhaps. The man seems Machiavellian enough. But I continue to wonder
about Captain Michaelson. He professes ignorance of this affair, but for
more than five months, heís shown an uncanny ability to send us precisely
where the action is thickest. This suggests some special knowledge on his
part. We have no idea what his motives might be... and he has an agent in
Next week: This Trick Always Works, Sometimes...
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