Fiendish Schemes by K. W. Jeter Read Free Book Online Page B

to Stonebrake. “But as with so much of Nature, I would appreciate it even more from indoors, gazing out through a window.”
    “You’ll soon have all the windows you could ever desire—a townhouse replete with them.” Stonebrake turned to look back at me, the waves surging to the height of his knees. “The only Nature you’ll likely see would be your manicured gardens.”
    He had led me out from the inn, to a sandy cove bulwarked with craggy rocks. Leaving me a few yards behind, he had plunged out into the foaming surf, seemingly deriving some obscure pleasure from the pull of the tide against his legs. Above us, the stars glittered with icy crystallinity, dimming when the brighter glow of the distant lighthouse swept past us.
    “I hope you’ll forgive my enthusiasms.” Stonebrake trod back across the sand and sat himself beside me on a rounded bank. He leaned forward to brush the salt-water from his diving garment. “I’ve rarely been considered to be of an excitable temperament, but the contemplation of vast fortunes has had, I admit, an unsettling effect.”
    “You might have murdered me.” My jaw still ached to a degree, from the blow I had received.
    “And thereby saved you a spot of bother. It would seem your gratitude would be more in order.”
    “You said you had something important to tell me.” Pressed to annoyance, I looked away from the man. “Important in the sense of profitable. Very well, you have my attention. But then, you had my attention back in the relative comfort of my room. The necessity of removing to this place eludes me.”
    “Ah.” Stonebrake nodded. “Perhaps I have been too long at sea. I forget that not everyone is equally charmed by the great roll and surge of the waters. That was in fact one of the attractions to me of the Mission—I fear I would have been of little value to the Royal Navy, coming from too poor a family to have purchased a commission as an officer, and not inclined to happily follow orders from those of more fortunate circumstance. But to walk the decks of a ship and do the Lord’s work at the same time . . .” He raised one hand in a beneficent gesture. “What could be finer than that?”
    “Obviously, to make a great deal of money. I suspect that the Lord is not greatly involved in that other ambition of yours.”
    “You wound me, Mr. Dower. I have done rather more on His behalf than you have. If God now sees fit to reward me with this munificent opportunity, let us consider it merely as payment for services rendered.”
    “Very well,” I replied. “However you wish. I can assure you that matters of conscience do not weigh heavily on my soul.”
    Stonebrake smiled. “I knew we would get along.”
    I ignored his insinuation. “And so what would be the exact nature of this opportunity?”
    “Hush.” He held a finger to his lips. “We must be careful.” A sidelong glance was cast toward the ocean. “They might be listening!”
    “Who might? These precious whales of yours?”
    “No . . .” Stonebrake gave a slow shake of his head, then leaned closer toward me, the very personification of intimate conspiracy. “The seas!”
    I was not taken greatly by surprise by his words, nor did they give rise to greater doubts about his sanity than those I already entertained. I knew whereof he spoke.
    “You refer, I take it, to that notion which has been so much discussed of late, of the ocean itself being an intelligent organism, as capable of thought as we ourselves?”
    “Not an intelligent organism,” corrected Stonebrake. “But many such. There might be as many about this island nation as there are parishes within it.”
    His point was well taken, at least in regard to that details of the conjecture which had so gripped both the official and the popular mind of Britain. Even I had heard of it, as deeply buried in the uncouth countryside as I had been. Somehow the news had traveled to my remote and rural corner, that the surrounding oceans had