The Educated Ape & other Wonders of the Worlds Read Online Free

and without equalised, then the port dropped down to form an entry ramp.
    ‘Perhaps
both of you should remain here,’ the chef told the boy and the monkey. ‘If folk
are injured, their injuries may not be pleasing to behold.’
    The
monkey butler munched a banana.
    The
bootboy said, ‘I ain’t never been upon no spaceship. I’ll come in there with
you, if you please.’
    ‘And
you?’ the man asked the monkey.
    The
monkey made a puzzled face, then twitched his sensitive nostrils.
    ‘Ah,’
said the chef ‘You smell something, do you?’
    The
monkey glanced up and a strange look came into his eyes.
    ‘We
had better make haste,’ said the chef ‘Come on.
    Many
of the Martian spaceships, abandoned by their occupants when they were struck
dead by Earthly bacteria, had been re-engineered for human piloting. The
British Government had taken control of all these spaceships and as they had
only landed in England, this meant that the British Government now had
effective control over all human space travel. This caused considerable
complaints from other countries, notably the United States of America, who
insisted that they should have a share of the captured technology.
    Knowing
what was best for all, Queen Victoria decreed that space travel and the
exploration of other worlds would remain the preserve of the British Empire.
And also decreed that the one and only spaceport on Earth would be constructed
in Sydenham on lands beneath the Crystal Palace. The Royal London Spaceport.
    A
number engraved beneath the name the Marie Lloyd indicated that the
crashed spaceship was registered there, rather than at one of the many
spaceports on Venus or Jupiter.
    The
chef stepped up the entry ramp and entered the fallen ship. The bootboy
followed him then whistled, for just as most boys of the Empire had been told
the bedtime story of the Martian invasion, so too had most boys read comics
that displayed cut—away diagrams of spaceships’ interiors.
    ‘This
ain’t right,’ said the bootboy. ‘What’s all this ‘ow’syer-father?’
    For
how’s-your-father there was a-plenty. The interior of the Marie Lloyd had
been stripped bare of all its fixtures and fittings, along with the dividing
walls between cabins, saloons and ‘excuse-me’s’, and within was crammed a vast
array of complicated electrical gubbinry. Tall glass tubes that flashed with
miniature lightning storms. Cables and copper coils. Intricate panels sewn with
valves that pulsated as if in time to a human heartbeat. Many and various wonders
and weirderies of the modern persuasion. Bits and bobs were sparking and
smoking and there was a definite sense that the whole damn kit and caboodle was
likely at any moment to erupt in a devastating explosion.
    ‘No
sign of any passengers or crew,’ said the portly chef, fanning at the air.
‘Best have a look in the cockpit.’
    He
edged warily towards the prow of the crashed vessel. The monkey butler followed
and Jack the bootboy tinkered away with things he should not be touching.
    ‘Don’t
do that,’ the chef called over his shoulder. ‘And be prepared to run if the
need arises.’
    The
door to the cockpit was jammed, so the chef put his shoulder to it. For a
portly fellow the chef was surprisingly strong. The door, a panelled-oak
affair, gave up an unequal struggle and toppled from its hinges into the
cockpit beyond. The chef then entered the cockpit, dusting himself down as he
did so.
    Then
he came to a halt.
    ‘Oh
my,’ said he. ‘Oh my.’
    ‘Dead
‘un, is it?’ called the bootboy. ‘‘Ead knocked orf or somethin’?’
    ‘Wait
where you are,’ the chef called back and took another step forwards.
    Within
the cockpit was a pair of seats, one apiece for pilot and co-pilot. Only one of
these was occupied and this by a curious being slumped over the controls spread
out before him. He was small and slight and wore a one-piece silver suit with a
modern zip-fastener running up the front. A single glance told the