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vibrated from the thunder of its approach.
    “Here’s proof, my boy! This is our work, this herald of the new age.
Technologia
, the Greeks called it. Science applied to practical purposes. We’ve had the knowledge to build steam engines for a thousand years. Had our people been able to work freely and in the open, Shakespeare might have ridden one of these from Stratford to London.
    “Fortunately, we now have the goodwill and assistance of some of the most powerful men in the nation. It was a trifling matter to liberate you from that hell-ship! Greater wonders lie ahead, but it will take steady work to bring them into being.”
    “If this is true,” said Edward cautiously, “then I have found my purpose at last.”
    “Master Edward!” Richardson appeared like a specter through a cloud of steam. “Doctor, sir. We have a first-class carriage, all neat and proper. Your trunk’s already stowed, sir.”

1848: Joyful, as a Hero Going to Conquest
    “Here’s the man.”
    Ludbridge peered over the top of his
Times
and saw Greene approaching him across the library. Ludbridge was surprised; Greene worked Downstairs and came up from his office about as often as a mole left its burrow. Following Greene was an extraordinarily tall young man, vaguely familiar to Ludbridge from somewhere. After watching a moment, he recollected that the man had been at the banquet for new members, sitting across from the old member who had sponsored him.
    The old member had been Dr. Nennys, Ludbridge remembered now. He rather disliked Dr. Nennys. However, he smoothed out his nascent scowl and nodded civilly at Greene.
    “Ludbridge.”
    “Greene.”
    “I don’t know if you’ve been introduced to young Bell-Fairfax? Bell-Fairfax, Ludbridge.”
    “An honor, sir.” Bell-Fairfax inclined forward in a curt military bow.
    “How d’you do, sir.”
    “New member,” said Greene. “In fact, a Residential member.”
    “Ah.” Ludbridge came alert. There were two classes of gentlemen at Redking’s Club. Public members tended to be professionals in the arts and sciences, with a few MPs and cabinet ministers among them.Residential members, as their name implied, had rooms on the premises and tended to be gentlemen who followed no very clearly defined trade. Many of them had been in the service; few had any living relatives. They were, to a man, unmarried. Ludbridge himself was a Residential.
    “And he attended your old school, as well,” said Greene, with a significant look. He had just used a code phrase.
    “Did he, indeed?” Ludbridge smiled. The phrase had told him that Bell-Fairfax was a member of the Gentlemen’s Speculative Society, the inner circle at Redking’s.
    “He did. I’ve just been giving him a tour of the club, but I’m rather pressed for time,” said Greene. “Would you mind very much taking him under your wing for a bit?”
    “Not at all.” Ludbridge folded up his paper and, setting it aside, rose from the depths of his chair. One of the other members frowned at them for carrying on a conversation in the library. Greene shrugged apologetically at him, and the three men walked out into the corridor.
    As private clubs went, Redking’s was not particularly noteworthy in appearance. It was housed in a plain brick edifice in Craig’s Court; its rooms, while comfortable, were neither grand nor imposing. Nor was there anything exceptional within them to which Ludbridge might point with pride. Not, at least, in the rooms Upstairs.
    Downstairs was quite another matter.
    Greene led them to an inconspicuous door off the front entry hall, which, when opened, revealed a staircase. They descended together, after which Greene nodded to them and hurried away to his office.
    Ludbridge turned and surveyed Bell-Fairfax critically.
    “You’re rather tall for the work,” he said. “I assume you have other remarkable qualities?”
    “I hope so, sir.”
    “I hope so as well. Now, do you really need a tour, or have you been down