From the Earth to the Moon Ch. 02
Author’s note: Bear in mind that this is an alternate steampunk universe, so more than a few liberties are being taken with historical figures. British titles and addresses differ slightly than in our universe and, as in any reality, Americans can never get them right anyway! And all of this is just setting the groundwork, as it were, so the “good parts” are coming and, when they do, all participants will be at least 18. Enjoy!
—–
August of ’74 found James Davidson relaxing in Daniel’s Cafe Americana, located in the American Emporium hotel. The hotel (which included a number of services, such as a barber shop, laundry service, etc.), was the home of all of the American members of the Ethernaut Corps, as well as a few of the foreign members. Cafe Americana had become the unofficial watering hole of both the members of the Ethernaut Corps and the members of the international press. This included one Patrick O’Sullivan, who worked for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Patrick was a hard-drinking, hard nosed writer who nonetheless knew when to keep things “off the record” when bending an elbow with the ethernauts at the Cafe Americana, and made sure his fellows did the same.
Patrick’s pride and joy, his eighteen year old daughter Katherine, was also with him. She was as sassy and funny as her bright red hair, blazing green eyes, and smattering of freckles would make you believe. But as bold as she was, she knew when to keep an ardent admirer at bay with a well-placed quip or an even better placed kick. To date, the furthest an ethernaut or a journalist had gotten with Kate was a stolen kiss.
The American Emporium Hotel, the brainchild of the American immigrants (who had been immigrants themselves to America before relocating to St. Lucia), was a smashing success. It was part hotel/part boarding house, with a restaurant, a delicatessen, a small dry goods and luxuries store…in short, everything for the American expat who was feeling homesick. The partnership was made up of the Fioravanzo and Meynard families, as well as the Wongs, a family of Chinese immigrants. Dayo Wong, the patriarch of the Wong family, had originally brought his family to San Francisco twenty years ago, and had slowly moved eastward. Mr. Wong often joked that he would eventually return to China from the opposite direction that he had left it.
The Wong family was basically invisible, providing the services at the American Emporium (as well as a third of the capital). Anti-Chinese biases weren’t as strong on the East Coast of the United States as they were in the West, but they were still present, even in the American community on St. Lucia. It was because of this bias that James would friends with the Wong family through their eighteen year old daughter, Cuifen.
A band of American merchant sailors on leave had exited the Cafe Americana and literally bumped into Cuifen. Normally, Cuifen wouldn’t have been where she was, but an unusually large American delegation had put a strain on the hotel’s linens, and she was hurrying to gather more soap for her father’s laundry.
The sailors, driven by drink, bigotry and desire, quickly cornered the helpless Cuifen. She would have faced being violated at the very least, and possibly worse, if James hadn’t stepped out of the Cafe Americana at that particular moment. Outnumbered, James still launched himself into the crowd of sailors. The following ruckus drew the attention of the remaining ethernaut corps in the bar. The following fight was quick and very one-sided.
After that, the Wongs, like so many other families, adopted James Davidson. In addition, James was the recipient of the shy, quiet hero worship of Cuifen Wong. James was a guest at many Wong dinners, where he listened with fascination to the stories of the Wong patriarch, from his days as a boy in the Guangdong province to his adventures travelling across America.
Cuifen was absolutely stunning, with her soulful brown eyes, long dark hair, and stunning figure. Again, James might have been tempted to be more than just the recipient of Cuifen’s hero worship, but it wasn’t in the cards. As much as the senior Wong liked and admired the American ethernaut, he knew neither his culture nor James’ would approve of a match between the two. Dayo Wong had decided to match Cuifen with the scion of a wealthy Chinese family living in New York.
But back to the here and now.
James was sitting at a table across from Alfred Nobel and Otto Lilienthal, both of whom had been drawn to the Moon Project. Although both men had only come to the program less than a year ago, both were already in charge of their respective departments. Thanks to Alfred Nobel, the new head of the Projects propulsion and engine division (and a major investor to boot), James thought that landing a man on the moon before the end of the century had become a very real possibility. But as important as Nobel’s contributions had been, Otto’s contributions were even more significant, at least porno in the sphere of politics.
Otto Lilienthal and his brother Gustav had come to St. Lucia to work on the project’s parachutes. Otto and Gustav, though, were quickly redirected to the Project’s burgeoning heavier-than-air aircraft. It was Otto’s involvement in the project that had drawn the newly unified German Empire into the Moon Project and also achieved what was considered impossible: thwarting the machinations of Otto Von Bismarck.
Bismarck had separated the young Wilhelm II from his family, planning to eventually use the prince as a political tool against his parents. When a German contingency of inventors and engineers left for St. Lucia, they took along with them the thirteen year-old Wilhelm II. Wilhelm expected to be made an honorary ethernaut based upon his position. Much to his dismay (as well as that of the diplomatic corps of Great Britain, the United States, and the German Empire), the director of the ethernaut corps, James Davidson, informed the Emperor’s heir that there were no honorary ethernauts, but that he would give the young German prince a chance to eventually earn a spot.
At the beginning, the young German prince resented what he considered the blatant lack of respect due to him. But within a year, young Wilhelm had become the unofficial mascot of the ethernaut corps, with each member giving the young prince tutelage in a wide variety of subjects, from the physics of dirigibles to the nascent mathematics associated with rocketry. Lord Brent and James treated the young prince as a favored younger brother, much to Wilhelm’s delight. Wilhelm knew it would be years before he could get into the ethernaut corps, but he wasn’t disappointed. After all, none of the other ethernauts had gone into space yet, but all were involved in the many experiments happening on the island, including Otto’s heavier-than-air aircraft. The Anglo-German alliance looked as if would thrive in the future rule of Wilhelm II, with the United States now forming the third corner of that international alliance.
But again, back to the present moment.
James made his farewells to Otto and Alfred, making his way back to his room. It was going to be a busy week. First, there was his birthday coming up, his 29th. His friends and fellow ethernauts, Lord Brent and Prince Wilhelm (as odd and as inseparable as three friends could be) had already explained that they had his birthday mapped out for him. And then there was the launch of the Prometheus. With the completion of the launch rail system going up the side of Mt. Gimie, the Moon Project was ready for its most ambitious project to date: the launch of a probe into the ether. No one was exactly sure what the qualities of the ether were, but several theories were waiting to be tested, and several devices were placed on the probe to recover ether and bring it back to earth.
As James made his way back to his room, little did he realize that his first birthday present was waiting for him.
James made his way to his room, reflecting on a conversation he had had on the Mountain (which is what everyone on the island called the launch rail and the associated Moon Project facilities) with his best friend, Lord Brent. Lord Brent had pointed out to him that it simply wouldn’t do for the head of the ethernaut corps, the leading candidate to be the first ethernaut in space, and the de facto assistant director of the Moon Project to remain single. When James pointed out to Lord Brent that he himself was unmarried, Lord Brent merely shrugged and observed, “Apples and oranges, Davidson. Apples and oranges. Besides, mother is picking me out a nice, dutiful wife even as we speak.”
James had no objections to the institution of the matrimony. It was just that James didn’t have any prospects. Scratch that, he mentally corrected himself. He had no prospects that were both feasible and palatable.
There was Lady Brent, who was not only gorgeous, but a lady in every sense of the world. Shy and retiring as she was, she still made anyone in her presence feel comfortable. But James knew he had no chance with her. She was the daughter of a member of a cadet branch of the British monarchy, and thus forever beyond his reach.
Then there was Katherine O’Sullivan, the daughter of that Irish reporter from St. Louis. She was smart, funny, spirited, and lovely. And ambitious. Katherine had let it be known on more than one occasion that she was going to be to journalism what Florence Nightingale had become in modern nursing. That meant never bending her will to the demands of matrimony.
There was Cuifen Wong. Shy, demure, radiant, lovely, and doting on James’ every word and whim. But Cuifen was Chinese. And James couldn’t jeopardize his career with a non-white wife, even if Cuifen was almost worth the sacrifice.
The same was true with Sophia Fioravanzo. She was funny, sassy…and Catholic. Of course, James could convert to Catholicism, rus porno but then he could kiss his career goodbye in the same move.
Next on James’ list of unobtainable brides was Jane Meynard. His former landlady, Mrs. Meynard, had been trying to marry off all her other daughters to James as long as he remembered, but Jane was the crown jewel of the Meynard family. She was being held back for somebody a few stations above that of an ex-Confederate soldier involved in a crazy scheme, even if that scheme was being supported by some of the greatest scientists and financiers in the world.
No, Jane was being kept for someone who moved in the social circles of someone like Emily Waggoner.
James glowered at the mere thought of that woman. Emily Waggoner was infuriating, insufferable, and…and…and…
Intellectually brilliant, James was forced to admit. Perhaps misguided, but Emily Waggoner was passionate about those causes she had adopted. And the fact was, Emily fit the mode of the type of woman that James was physically attracted to.
Emily, Jane, Sophia, Katherine, Sarah, Cuifen…though of different coloring, they all shared the physical qualities that James found desirable. Large busted, slim waisted, but with womanly hips, smooth complexions and their hair reaching to their waist. And all approximately a foot shorter than James’ height.
James momentarily wondered what it was about such women that attracted him.
He did not have time to reflect on this, though. When he opened his door, standing in the middle of his room was Cuifen Wong, holding a small, wrapped present in her hand. She was wearing a plain gray dress, but even in that, she looked spectacular to James.
“Cuifen?”
“I … I knew it was your birthday, and you’ve done so much for our family … for me.” Eyes cast down, Cuifen held the small package out in front of her. It was wrapped in thin tin foil that she must have taken from the hotel’s kitchen.
Opening it up, James found a pocket watch chain, woven from Cuifen’s own hair.
“Cuifen, I’m—I’m speechless. Thank you!”
“I–I wanted you to have something to remind you of me. I–my father has arranged for me to go to New York next summer to be married. It will be good for both our families,” Cuifen offered by way of a hurried explanation.
“Well, I–I’m going to miss you, Cuifen. I—” James and Cuifen stood there silent and motionless, as the awkward moment stretched on.
Suddenly, Cuifen wrapped her arms around James’s waist, hugging him tightly. James just held her, stroking the top of her head. Cuifen looked up at him, tears in her eyes. James looked down, just staring into those deep, dark eyes. Before he knew it, he found himself leaning down to kiss Cuifen.
Cuifen was caught by surprise, and it was obvious to James that this was her first kiss. After a few moments of awkwardness, Cuifen gave herself over to the kiss.
James finally released Cuifen from the kiss, and looked down into her eyes. She stared wide-eyed back up at him, then closed her eyes again as James brushed her cheek with his fingertips. When James fingertip descended to the hollow of her throat, her eyes flew open.
“Please…don’t hurt me, James.”
James’s finger traced circles at the base of Cuifen’s throat, luxuriating in the smoothness of her skin. As he pondered her last words, he drew Cuifen to himself, his hand holding her head to his chest.
The two held each other silently before Cuifen gently broke the embrace. Before she left the room, however, she turned to James and said, “I…I would like to talk like this some more, before I go.” With that, Cuifen dashed out the door.
James stared at the door, wondering what he had gotten himself to.
—–
After a night of dreams filled with images of a celestial angel, the next morning found James rejoining Alfred Nobel, as the two men stood in one of the Mountain’s many iron-plated buildings, looking out through slits at the rail launching facility that ran to the peak of Mt. Gimie.
“So how do you like the fireworks I am preparing for your birthday, James?” Alfred said with a smile.
“Well, Alfred–“
Alfred laughed. “I think you’re the only one of your countrymen who doesn’t insist on calling me Al. To be honest, I’ve become rather enamored with the abbreviation.”
James laughed as well. “Well, Al, I’m still amazed at the progress we’ve made. We’ve been here a little more than a year, and we’re ready to launch our first probe into the Ether. And we owe the lion’s share of that accomplishment to you, Al.”
Alfred shrugged, but it was nothing less that the truth. The Prometheus would start off at the base of Mt. Gimie, and through a series of steam-powered catapults and explosive packs, would accelerate up Mt. Gimie where a final blast from the Prometheus itself would launch it (hopefully) up beyond the atmosphere for a few precious moments into the Ether, seks filmi where it would return (again hopefully) with precious samples of the Ether itself.
Alfred scanned the horizon. “And you’re going to have to talk to the Prince again, James. You or Lord Brent. You’re really the only the two who he listens to.”
James looked up and laughed. “Flying into restricted airspace again, I see. Well, all the ethernauts–and potential ethernauts–have to keep up their flying time. I’ll just have to remind him that the rail is off limits.”
Al and James watched as the Prince soared over the rail in the small ornithopther that all the ethernauts were required to learn how to fly.
James reasoned that maneuvering in the ether would require a variety of skills, including perhaps the mastery of aerial skills that a good ornithopter aeronaut would need. Otto told him that the small one-manned ornithopters, like the one the Prince was presently flying, were but the tip of the iceberg in the field of heavier-than-air aircraft.
James watched as the Prince flew through the sky with an ease and grace that belied the skill needed to fly the craft. Truth be told, the Prince was a better aeronaut than any member of the ethernaut corps was. Otto had in fact said that the Prince’s skills would be wasted in the ethernaut corps. The compliment delighted the Prince to no end, though his eyes were still firmly set on the Ether.
“Oh, by the way, the Director has made an appointment for you with a member of the Press, for a personal interview,” Alfred advised.
James sighed. The reporters were an okay lot to drink with over at Daniel’s Cafe Americana, but otherwise James really had no use for them.
“You’re supposed to meet with them over at your office,” Alfred added.
“Where would that be again, Al?” James asked wryly. Both men laughed at the quip. It was a common joke that if you were looking for James on the Mountain, the last place you looked for him was his office. In fact, some people didn’t think James knew he had an office, or where it was.
“Well, I guess I better get the interview over with,” James said with a sigh. “Then I’ll go have another talk with the prince about the concept of ‘restricted airspace.'” With a chuckle, James headed over to his office.
James entered the ramshackle collection of buildings that served as the headquarters of the Edison Moon Project. Nearby, the foundation for a more permanent structure had been laid down, but there had been a delay in the construction. It was rather amazing, James thought. The Moon Project had laid down the rail launcher, which included nearly a mile of track lined with huge steam engines, cement depots for TNT, as well as literally miles of telegraph lines for scientific measurements and monitoring…all that had been laid down in little over year. The more mundane administrative building was obviously going to take much longer.
The problem, James decided, was that with the rail launcher, the people involved knew exactly what they wanted. The administrative people…
First, there was the Director himself, who reported directly to Edison. Then there was the representative of the American consortium of financiers led by J.P. Morgan. Then there was the representative of the East Indian Trading Company. Not to mention the representatives of the American, British and German governments. Then there was the British Royal Navy, which provided the Moon Project with the presence of a complement of Royal Marines as well as the HMS Shah, which also served as an observation and recovery ship for rocket launches.
So whereas the rocket side of the Moon Project got to call its own shots, James mused, the paperwork side of the project seemed to be a pie with too many thumbs in it.
And speaking of paperwork, James internally moaned, as he got hit with a ton of it as soon as he entered his office. Even a mere head of the ethernaut corps had to sign his signature to something no less than thirty times a day, and James hadn’t come to his actual office for more than three days.
When James was finally able to make his way to his personal office, where the reporter was awaiting him, a thought came to him. The Moon Project really needed to hire a person to talk for the Project, whose job it was to feed information to the literally insatiable appetite of the journalists who were always hanging around. It was just a matter of who to get, though.
And as James opened the door to his office, the answer hit him like a bolt of lightning. For there, sitting in his office, was a vision of Gaelic loveliness, Katherine O’Sullivan, who wanted to become a reporter. And who better to represent the Moon Project than someone on the march for progress herself?
“James Davidson. It took you long enough to show up for this.” Katherine told him with a grin.
“Picking up the slack for your father, Kate?”
“Don’t you worry about him, James. I’ll be asking the questions here,” she replied with a laugh.
“Kate, I have a proposition for you.”
“And me a good, honest Irish girl. I’m shocked, James, shocked.” James blushed, which made Kate laugh even harder. “Now, what’s this proposition of yours?”
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