Free The Steampunk Detective by Darrell Pitt

when to speak and when to remain silent. 
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t –.”
    “That’s alright, Jack,” Mr Doyle said. “I also have a grandson, although I have not seen him for some time.”
    “Why is that? Does he live a great distance away?”
    “No. Just on the other side of London.” Mr Doyle paused. “His name is James. His mother’s name is Amelia. When the war began, my son, Phillip signed up. So did I.”
    For a moment the only sound was the drone of the steam engines.
    “Phillip believed what they told him about king and country, but I had no such illusions. I knew there would be bloodshed. I had fought in the Boer conflict, and had heard the lies that politicians tell and I already knew the tragedy that war brings.
    “The pacts drawn up prior to the Great War were built on a house of cards. Great Britain was allied with France and Germany with Austria and every country held similar alliances with other nations. Many naively believed there would be a clearing of the deck.
    “Not I. My only interest was in protecting my son and with my previous military service I was able to enrol as an officer. Phillip was in my regiment. We were sent over to France to fight.”
    Mr Doyle’s voice had become so ghostly in the darkness that Jack could not resist the urge to break his dialogue. “What was it like?”
    His mentor gave a bitter laugh. “A bloodbath. Pure and simple. Phillip and I were stationed in the Somme, buried in mud and filth and blood. It was an impossible situation. Men were dying all around us, but we both knew we were expected to do our duty.
    “One morning we were ordered to charge a German emplacement. I led the regiment across the muddy field. I thought we would both die. That would have been a tragedy, but at least we would be together. Mortar fire started all around us as we charged across that terrible field.
    “I suddenly tripped. I tried to stand, but I found myself caught in barbed wire. It was all over the place. Impossible to avoid. The more I struggled to free myself from it, the more I became entrapped. I could see Phillip running ahead with the other men in the early morning gloom.
    “In desperation, I screamed for him to slow down. I continued to struggle with the barbed wire until I finally tore free. Racing after him, I was only about twenty feet behind when the mortar attack hit him and his companions.
    “The explosion threw me backwards. I lay there unconscious for God knows how long. It could have been minutes. Or hours. Finally I woke up and crawled over to where Phillip had been.”
    The airship carved a path across the sky. Jack felt tears on his face as he watched the stars rotate out of view.
    I should not have intruded on Mr Doyle’s privacy, Jack thought, his stomach turning over. He has already suffered enough without me making things worse.
    “There was nothing left of him,” Mr Doyle said. “I found pieces of clothing. His dog tags. Nothing else. His friends had also been killed. Sometimes people have asked me what it was like, the war, I mean and I simply tell them it reduced men to nothing. That’s what the war did for Phillip. It reduced a brave, strong young man to nothing.
    “One minute he existed. The next, he ceased to exist.
    “His mother was already dead, thank God. But when I returned to England Phillip’s wife, Amelia, was embittered towards me because of his death.”
    “It wasn’t your fault,” Jack said.
    “I know,” Mr Doyle said. “It was the war. I still carry Phillip’s dog tags around my neck. They remind me of that barbed wire. If only I had not been caught on that wire…”
    “You would have probably been killed too, sir.”
    “Probably.” The silence ticked on. “War is a great injustice, my boy.”
    “I know, Mr Doyle.”
    “Injustice must be fought.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The night moved across them and before sleep claimed them, Jack looked up into the sky and watched the stars. Sometimes he saw them