The Vesuvius Club

19. The Engines of Vulcan

AND so «she» was. The beautiful Venus was the youth I had been introduced to as Victor. But Victor Morraine! This was almost more extraordinary. The dazzling creature inclined his head and moved towards my manservant, skirts swishing over the cold stone floor. «Oh, Charlie. If only you had been true to me!»

The boy was staring at him, open-mouthed. Venus flopped down in the armchair. Unmann continued to cover Charlie and me with the pistol.

«I suppose it takes all sorts,» I said philosophically. «Really, Unmann, I can’t see what you can gain by helping this… person with whatever pathetic revenge he’s planning.»

Unmann laughed, no longer the silly ass. His composure was quite chilling. «You can have no conception of the scale of Venus’s ambition. But you’re right in one respect, Mr Box. It is revenge that he seeks.»

I twiddled the stem of the goblet between my fingers. «Do tell.» In my experience, that’s all it takes.

Venus’s eyes blazed. «Yes! I want revenge! Revenge on those treacherous men who earned their reputations from my father’s work yet had not the brains to complete it! Revenge against the woman who betrayed him and broke his fragile mind. They shall all suffer.»

I cocked my head to one side and waved a hand around me. «But this is all very elaborate, isn’t it? What exactly do you have in mind for this „suffering“?»

Venus’s face set into a hard mask as though he were gazing back through the years. «My father was a great man — a visionary. He lacked only the discipline to see his work through to its logical conclusion. Fortunately his genius was passed on to me! And I have completed his work.»

I felt suddenly cold. «Completed? You mean that’s what all this is?»

«It is. Heat and light from the immense power of the volcano.»

«Very commendable,» I said levelly. «I presume you intend to help the world?»

Unmann chuckled. «Yes — to understand its mistakes.»

I sighed. «I imagine you intend to hold civilization to ransom or something equally dreary.»

Venus rose and held out his arms wide, so that the velvet hung down from his marble-white flesh like the wings of a monstrous bird. «We stand in the ruins of a once-teeming city. A city destroyed by the might of the great volcano, by the wrath of the very earth herself! But consider for a moment, Signor Box, the geology of this great country. From north to south, she is encircled by a ring of fire, a network of volcanoes erupting like sores on her beautiful form. Etna, Stromboli, Ischia, Vulcano»

«Campi Flegri! Cimino! Vulsini!» chimed in Unmann.

«And greatest of all,» cried Venus breathlessly. «Vesuvius!»

I blinked. Thought a little. Thought a little more. «What are you saying?»

«An immense explosive device placed within her very bowels…» whispered Venus. «A weapon of such incalculable power that the world will shudder at the very thought of it!»

«And when the bomb goes off…» I cried, appalled, «a chain reaction!»

«A stupendous river of fire will erupt,» crowed Venus. «Tearing apart the rock, consuming the seas, plunging this kingdom into oblivion for ever!»

«My God!»

«You’re out of your bloody mind!» cried Charlie.

«But what do you gain from such an act?» I demanded. «The destruction of your entire country? Centuries of culture?»

Venus’s eyes grew brighter yet. «I owe this country nothing! It was the arena for my father’s dissolution and ruin. I only know that I must show those traitors that Maxwell Morraine was the greatest scientist the world has ever seen! They, and all this sordid land, shall perish in the flames of my vengeance.»

I shot a wild glance at Unmann. «And you want this too?»

«I want what Venus wants,» said the young man simply.

«And you’d condone the destruction of all Italy, the deaths of millions, just to slake your thirst for retribution?»

«Why not?» He shrugged.

«I must inform you that I cannot permit that.»

Unmann laughed. «It seems to me, Lucifer Box, that you have very little say in the matter.»

Venus crossed to the great round table and pressed an ivory button on the machinery that had been clamped on to it. There was a loud squawking sound and within seconds four huge, helmeted thugs had slipped silently into the room.

I was rapidly searched and my precious revolver confiscated. I found myself pinioned with my arms behind my back by Venus’s creatures, Charlie likewise and, together, we were «escorted» from the bath house.

My question remained unanswered. I caught one more glimpse of Venus’s scowling face and then we were being pushed out into another of the grey corridors.

Charlie seemed to be in something of a state of shock. «Bloody hell,» he muttered. «If I’d only known her fella was her all the time!»

«Well, you certainly missed out on a rare frolic, Charlie boy, but you mustn’t get sentimental. Remember it was he who tried to drown you in the sewer. And God alone knows what he means for us now.»

The helmeted thugs pushed us on until we came to a set of doors, incongruously shiny in the blank grey walls. One of them wrenched back the grille that covered them and I realized that some kind of elementary lift had been constructed. For a horrible moment, I thought they meant to do us in there and then by hurling us into the empty shaft but, no, there were brass doors behind the grille and, at the touch of a button they squealed open.

The tiny cabinet beyond could scarcely contain us, but all four thugs duly squeezed inside, their meaty hands clasped tightly about our arms.

One of them rotated a handle and the lift began to judder downwards; the temperature constantly rising and the sound of clanking, grinding machinery beginning to throb from all around.

Finally, the lift shuddered to a halt. There was a pause and then the doors sprang open into a dismal tunnel. The very air seemed heavy with steam as though we had entered an atmosphere only fit for the Titans to breathe.

A jab in the back told me to get moving. As we walked I saw that one whole side of this tunnel had been panelled with crystal as though to provide a viewing platform and I strained to peer through it. Such was the quantity of steam that had built up, however, the crystal window was totally fogged. What devilry lay beyond?

«Chin up, Charlie,» I called.

«Will do, sir,» he responded with more cheeriness than I expect he was feeling. «You reckon these gorillas speak English?»

«I’m rather relying on them not to,» I said, casting a quick look and grin at my captors. Their only response was another shove in the small of the back.

«Got any ideas?»

«Well,» I sighed. «It’s a very pretty mess. We are dealing with a lunatic. There’s no way to reason with him because he wants nothing but destruction.» I pulled up suddenly. «Hello, what’s this?»

We had approached another lift inset in the blank wall. The doors were open and two more of the helmeted zombies were engaged in curious activity within. The lift cabinet itself appeared to have been halted one floor below so that the two men actually stood on its roof. One was holding the thick, oily chains from which it was suspended whilst his fellow busily sawed away at them.

«What’re they up to?» hissed Charlie.

«I don’t understand it,» I whispered. «They seem to be cutting off all escape routes. Including their own. If he keeps sawing like that…»

But perhaps these zombified husks had no concept of personal mortality any more. I tried to see more but was shoved onwards. I just glimpsed a series of metal rungs sunk into the lift-shaft, glinting in the sallow electric light and extending towards the surface.

We had reached the end of our frog-marching and stopped outside the door of some kind of cell. One of the thugs jerked his thumb at Charlie and, when he failed to move, the others grabbed him and began to haul him away.

«Charlie!» I cried. «You fiends! Get your ruddy hands off him!»

I was then bundled unceremoniously into the total blackness of the cell. The clang of the door behind me was like the Last Trump.

I sank to the floor and wiped the streaming sweat from my face. How far below the ground I was I could not tell but the heat was almost unbearable. And all the time came the constant thrum-thrum of mighty engines.

I crawled over to the wall and blindly examined the structure of my confinement. There was no hope of escape. The walls were of solid rock and the floor, though softer, was hardly less impenetrable. I could only wait until they came for me and then attempt to flee. If they came at all. Perhaps they meant me to boil alive in here as the great volcano erupted!

I was left alone in the pitch-black cell for perhaps an hour and my head was nodding on my breast in the stuffy darkness when, at last, there came footsteps. The light from the corridor flooded the cell and I shielded my eyes as the door swung open and Venus stood before me, his swarthy face wet with perspiration, his dark eyes shining malevolently.

«Very sorry to have kept you, Signor Box,» he said with palms outstretched. «But now all is prepared.»

«All what is prepared?»

«I wish you to see my little project. I would not have you die in ignorance.»

«Not today, thank you,» I cried cheerfully and turned my back on him.

«It is important to me that you appreciate the sheer scale of my achievement,» insisted the deadly beauty.

«Is it? Well, yes, I can see that from your point of view it probably looks that way but, forgive me, what’s in it for me? I mean, surely, after the shilling tour, you’re going to bump me off.»

«Not I. I have very little quarrel with you, Mr Box. In fact, I have enjoyed our brief association immensely. I only wish we could have known each other better.»

«There’s still time!» I cried, turning to face him. «What say we find somewhere nice and cool and have a little lie down, hm?»

But Venus evidently didn’t take to my kind of flippancy. That smooth hand cracked me nastily across the kisser. «It is my associate Mr Unmann who will do the deed. I believe he has something particularly unpleasant in mind.»

He threw back his head haughtily, and gestured to the corridor beyond. The guards dragged me from the cell and we retraced our steps up the corridor. Venus paused and leant across to the crystalline window, wiping away the condensed steam that clouded it with one delicate hand. Evidently satisfied, he pulled open an iron door. As I was about to be pushed through, I strained at my captors’ hold and jerked my head back.

«What’s going on there, Mr Morraine? Your lackeys are sabotaging the lifts. Are we all to die in this great revenge of yours?»

Venus merely smiled and I was hurled through the door into what I can only describe as a mechanical cathedral.

It was a vast chamber, hewn from the very rock, perhaps half a mile across and so high that its upper portion was obscured by clouds of steam. Behemothal brass and copper pipes as thick as tree-trunks fanned from a central, organ-like structure resembling tentacles on some giant metal squid. Said pipes had been channeled into the glistening rock-walls, leading, I imagined, deep into the very heart of Vesuvius. Vast pistons slammed into one another, sending up great clouds of super-heated steam and flooding the floor with gobbets of black grease. Above all this wonder had been erected a network of spindly galleries and platforms, all connected by row after row of spiral staircases. Helmeted zombies swarmed everywhere, monitoring switches and levers and cranks, attending to the minutiae of Armageddon.

Seated in four chairs near us, their wrists and ankles securely bound, were Mrs Knight and Professors Sash, Verdigris and Quibble. The effects of the purple poppy seemed to be gradually abating. All four were stirring slightly in their bonds.

«I always need an audience to bring out the best in me,» trilled Venus.

One figure detached itself from the crowd of helmeted workmen and came towards us. It was wearing some kind of protective clothing, fashioned from rubber and a helmet with square glass eye-holes. He removed the mask revealing himself to be none other than Mr Tom Bowler of Belsize Park. Or Stromboli, as I now realised he must be.

«You!» I hissed.

«Me. Hullo, Mr Box. So sorry I couldn’t help you with your bereavement. I promise to be very attentive, though, when it comes to your own interment.» He flashed a horrible smile and turned to Venus. «We are almost ready to begin the ceremony.»

«Wonderful!» enthused Venus. «But first we must show Mr Box our little toy.»

I stared at Bowler. «Great God, man!» I shrieked. «Why are you doing this? What hold does this creature have over you?»

He wiped at the sweat that was pouring into his eyes. «This is the future, Mr Box! A new world of machines and engines! We shall control the magma flows of this entire planet and once the world witnesses the destruction of Naples, they will give us anything we want!»

Something about Bowler’s tone gave me pause. He obviously had plans beyond this day of destruction. The destruction of Naples was to be a grand demonstration, not a suicidal act of revenge that would consume all Italy. I seized upon this chance. «There’s more to it than the end of Naples!» I yelled above the clanking din. «You don’t know, do you?»

«Silence him!» cried Venus.

«Tell him, Venus! Tell him about the chain reac»

I felt a rough gag being fastened over my mouth. In the filthy, steaming heat it was a desperate struggle to breathe.

I was dragged back (which is better than being dragged up, like mein host).

Bowler gave me a strange look then shook his head and returned to his diabolical work.

Venus grabbed me by my shirt-front and pulled me towards the centre of that soaring chamber. At the heart of the forest of boiling pipes stood a curious round structure, riveted together in brass panels like the segments of an orange. Steps led to it and Venus dragged me up them until we were looking down on the brass globe. A glass panel occupied its upper surface and Venus forced my head down so that I could see inside.

Within, surrounded by a mass of wiring was what I knew must be the convection bomb. The whole interior of the thing sparkled with power.

And stuffed in like a rag-doll beside it, his eyes wide and terrified, was Charlie Jackpot.

Venus rose to his full height on the steps, held out both his arms wide, then began spinning about, like a giddy child. His peculiar chuckle merged with the pounding thrum-thrum of the colossal machines as he gloated in the midst of his infernal creation.

«Behold!» he thundered. «Behold the Engines of Vulcan!»

He stood in a frock, I stood in mute impotence, the thugs restraining me as those fearful contraptions hammered and shuddered all around. What was I to do? I could feel the veins throbbing sickeningly in my head.

Venus began to grow calmer and then, with a jerk of his head, indicated that I was to be taken away.

«To Signor Unmann,» he cried, flashing me a dreadful grin.

Protesting and stumbling I was hauled from the room. I managed at least to shoot one last pleading glance at Bowler.

After the hellish atmosphere in the bomb-chamber, the grey featureless corridors came as something of a relief. It was to be a temporary respite only, however, as I was hauled into another room, one dominated by a huge iron pipe, in which Cretaceous Unmann awaited my convenience.

Unmann, holding the fearsome mask — that of Etna — regarded me impassively as I was hurled to the rocky floor, and then rattled out an order. I was pulled up on to my bloodied knees and securely bound hand and foot. Finally satisfied that I posed no immediate threat, Unmann indicated that we should be left alone.

«Where is your oh-so-elegant poise now, Mr Box?» he taunted.

Filthy and gagged, I was in no position to reply.

I tried to assume an air of nonchalance. Terribly difficult when held captive by lunatics beneath an active volcano, I’m sure you’ll agree.

«How you patronized me!» hissed Unmann. «Took me for a shambling fool. Yet now it is you that kneels before me!»

He paused. Perhaps realizing that a one-sided rant is nowhere near as interesting as a taunt-based dialogue, he crossed the floor towards me and pulled down my gag.

«Much obliged,» I panted. «Listen, old man. I’ve no doubt I misjudged you but you did put on such a good display of playing the fool. Now, can’t we talk this over like gentlemen?»

If I’d hoped to appeal to our national sense of decency I was sorely disabused.

«Gentlemen?» he spat. «How trivial you are, Box, when there are matters of the greatest moment on hand.»

He seemed to require prompting. «Will you not at least tell me,» I said wearily, «how the blazes you got caught up in all this nonsense?»

Unmann chuckled to himself. «There’s little to tell. But, after all, why not? Venus was abandoned by that Medea of a mother of his and drifted into crime where I was already happily billeted though the Service knew nothing of it. We began our little enterprise by founding the Vesuvius Club. It paid awfully well. At first it catered purely to, shall we say, the more straightforward desires but there is always a ready market for those of our persuasion, eh Mr Box?»

«I’ll thank you not to lump me in with you two,» I muttered. «I find frock-coats more convenient than petticoats.»

Unmann scowled at me. «Venus is Victor Morraine’s true self. The self he retreated into when his life was torn apart. The self who has schemed and plotted all these years to avenge his father’s humiliation.»

«Yes, yes,» I cried. «But why kill Poop?»

Unmann shrugged. «We have been relieving Pompeii of its treasures in order to finance the glorious technology you see about you.»

I nodded slowly. «And that poor sap Poop stumbled upon the truth?»

«He barely glimpsed the truth! But that, sadly for him, was enough. I lured him out to the harbour and bashed in his brains.»

I sighed exhaustedly. Unmann seemed to have stalled again. «And what of your plans for the professors and Mrs Knight?»

«They will witness the end of all Italy as they are consumed in the fire. It will be a quick death. I think Venus is being immoderately merciful. Not a courtesy I will be extending to you, Mr Box.»

Sweat was trickling down my back. Unmann rapped hard on the door and bellowed for the guards.

The door flew open and the thugs entered. They seemed to know what was required, pulling me up by the arms and pushing me towards the great iron pipe.

Unmann slipped his fingers around a small handle and pulled at it. With a metallic screech some species of hatch was revealed. I struggled to take in the details, my eyes awash with sweat — a grilled section was fitted across the pipe and its twin was positioned directly above, so that a small cage was effectively formed, allowing a man to crawl inside and inspect the interior, albeit with some difficulty.

I knew at once that I was to be that man.

«Hey-ho,» cooed Unmann.

I was lifted bodily and thrust into the pipe.

«It will not be comfortable for you, I’m afraid.» Unmann smiled. «It is somewhat akin to the medieval torture I believe they called „Little Ease“. But whereas those unfortunates were kept crook-backed for years your time inside will be brief.»

The grille supported my weight, neatly caging me.

«This pipe acts as an exhaust from the steam-pumps. Every few hours, a vast jet of surplus steam is channelled through here and out on to the surface.»

He let the implications of this sink in.

«I had considered all manner of delightful demises for you. But time is pressing and I really cannot imagine anything much worse than having the flesh boiled from your bones by a stream of super-heated steam!»

Nor, for that matter, could I.

«Oh fuck!» was all I could manage. So much for last words.

«Close the hatch,» he said, his face settling back into a mask of impassivity.

One of the guards eased the hatch back into place.

«Ciao!» I heard Unmann cry over the rending creak of the iron shutter.

Then all was hot, unbearable darkness.