Steam Submarine Cryptoloup Read online



  Gryphonomicon Steam Submarine

  Copyright © 2014 Robert Denethon

  Malaga, Western Australia

  Robert Denethon is a nom de plume.

  And this is a work of fiction.

  Book Two

  Steam Submarine

  Cryptoloup

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Interloup Seventeen - The Journey Begins in the Steam Submarine

  Interloup Eighteen - The Endless Ocean

  Interloup Nineteen - The Wolf Who Cried Boy

  Interloup Twenty - The Wisdom and the Way of the Wolf

  Interloup Twenty One - Happiness and Sacrifice, Poverty and the Unseen

  Interloup Twenty Two - In the Conning Tower with Evans

  Interloup Twenty Three - Uncharted Island, Almost Full Moon

  Interloup Twenty Four - Seek and You Shall Find

  Interloup Twenty Five - That Very Moment

  Interloup Twenty Six - Across The Crater

  Interloup Twenty Seven - the Wolf that Ate the Moon

  Interloup Twenty Eight - Encounter with the Kraken

  Interloup Twenty Nine - Cracks in Reality

  Interloup Thirty - The battle with the Kraken

  Interloup Thirty One - The Problem

  Interloup Thirty Two - Le Prieur’s Apparatus

  Interloup Thirty Three - Shame of the Dark Night of the Moon Month

  Interloup Thirty Four – Reflection

  Footnotes

  Postword

  Postnote to the Postword

  Postnote to the Postnote to the Postword

  End

 

  Interloup Seventeen - The Journey Begins in the Steam Submarine

  The Amnesiac Young Man.

  After I finally woke up I got up and knocked on Evans’ hotel room door in order to catch up on everything that had happened while I was asleep. It seemed to be about six o’clock in the evening.

  Evans invited me in; he had saved some sandwiches for me from lunch, so I sat down and ate while he made a cup of tea.

  He put two cups of tea on the table, with biscuits, and said, “Lad - we have all given Zelf our word that she will be captain while we are on her ship. We have agreed to take no action while we are on her ship without her approval. Zelf won’t have us on her submarine otherwise.”

  “Alright, Mister Evans. I can agree to that - it seems fair.”

  He sighed. I almost thought he hadn’t wanted me to agree. Was he trying to keep me in reserve, as a presence on the ship not beholden to Zelf? With Mister Evans I always felt that there was more going on than I could fathom.

  He scratched his head for a moment and said, “Also, lad, did you think about a name? You need a name. I know you have forgotten your past. But we need to call you something. What if something had gone wrong in the warehouse? I can’t call out, ‘Lad! Watch out for that gun it’s pointed at you!’ There are too many lads around at any particular time. You must have a name and now is the time to decide on one.”

  I was very puzzled by this. “What sort of a name? How do I choose a name?”

  Evans said, “Well - unless you can remember your real name - think of someone you like. A hero, someone from a story, a legend. Something that thrills you, lad. Or perhaps you have an inkling of who you might really be? If that’s the case, use that name...”

  I scratched my head. I said, “To be honest, Evans, I’m starting to think I might be Jonathan, brother of Amelia. Jonathan and Amelia travelled to Ultima Thule in 1851. Their father built the machine, but they eventually went on a griffin, Madgwint. I think that I must be Jonathan. They are in my thoughts and dreams... I have so many memories of them. And occasionally I almost think I hear Amelia’s voice. I have particularly vivid memories of Ultima Thule, in that little house with... my parents... They are my parents, I know they are. I must be Jonathan. And I remember their friend - what was his name? - having their school lessons together with Jonathan’s father, and learning Trogthen with the other tutor. And exploring out in the streets of Ultima Thule, hiding in the alleyways underneath the shadows of the multi-headed mushrooms. I could take the name Jonathan. But....”

  “But what?”

  “But... I’m not really that fond of Jonathan, as a name, you know. I mean, even if I was him, I’m still not sure of that. I feel as though I want a more heroic name - Jonathan just seems a little... mundane. I need a bigger name, one that is... something... epical.”

  Evans asked, “Do you have any particular epic in mind?”

  I stammered, “The - the T-T-Trojan wars. Troy is a name that has always appealed to me!”

  Evans looked at me for a moment and said, “Well. Troy it is, then.”

  “I suppose so...” I said, “Until I am really sure that I am Jonathan. Then if Jonathan really is my name I suppose I’ll have to take that one back. But then - if one can’t change one’s name when one has amnesia, then what’s the point of it all anyway?”

  Evans nodded and said, “Quite right. What is the point of it all? The great question. And we could speak about it all week. But... I was never one for philosophical digressions. I am more of a man of action and reaction. And, Troy, my men are setting up the machine in Zelf’s submarine right now, even as we spend our time in Socratic dialogue. They will finish at nine o’clock tonight. I am already packing my luggage. You ought to be doing the same. Do your laundry and get yourself ready. In the morning at six o’clock we are setting off in Zelf’s steam submarine on our quest to find or make a portal to the other world. Make sure you are ready, Troy! I wouldn’t want to leave you behind. Particularly since you may well be going home. ”

  I took me a little while to get used to being called ‘Troy’ - but something about the name definitely seemed to have a sort of resonance for me. Yes, I know the Trojans were defeated and outwitted by the Greeks, but they retained their honour, which can’t be said for the Greeks, I believe - and one should never take a name unless it really means something - and if I was Jonathan I wanted to be sure before I started calling myself Jonathan. After all, honour is more important than craftiness - even more important than victory - at the end of the day.

  Though I could not remember for the life of me how I came to know about the Trojans and the Greeks.

  “Alright,” I said, “I’ll get ready.”

  “Dinner will be at eight at the restaurant downstairs, Troy. Make sure you’re ready.”