Free The Sunken by S. C. Green Page A

drag you into this.
    The King smiled, sending a chill down Nicholas’ spine.
    “Many of my current ministers,” the King shot Banks a filthy look, “have dismissed your broad gauge railway as quackery, but I’ve been reading your papers with interest. It has not escaped my attention that you’ve entered my engineering competition, and although I cannot reveal the winner of that contest before Thursday’s Royal Society meeting, I would urge you not to miss that meeting.”
    What? Did he just say … Brunel is …
    Not even the presence of royalty could keep the boyish glee from Isambard’s face. “Your Majesty, it is an honour.”
    “It is still not decided,” Banks snapped, freezing the smile on Isambard’s face. “The Council are not yet in agreement.”
    The King dismissed Banks with a wave of his hand. “Don’t mind Joseph. Eventually, he comes around to seeing things my way. However, the matter I’d like to discuss today is of a different nature. The plans, please Joseph?” The Prime Minister handed the King a set of drawings, who spread them out on the table, positioning weights over the corners to keep them flat. Nicholas squinted at the delicate lines, trying to comprehend.
    “I want you to build me a railway,” said the King. “Build it as fast and as well as you’re able, and if I like it, I shall give you the authority to build railways all over England.”
    Brunel sucked in his breath, and he grabbed Nicholas’ arm as though he might fall over at any moment. Nicholas stared, dumbfounded, from his perch, wondering how such a remarkable fortune could have fallen into Brunel’s lap.
    “But Your Majesty,” Brunel’s voice came out high-pitched. “ Why? ”
    “I intend to move my household and affairs of state into Buckingham House, in the heart of the city. I want Windsor Castle to remain a religious centre, a place where I can find respite with my gods, and where pilgrims might travel to give offerings at St. George’s Chapel. But my main residence shall be moved to Buckingham, and I need a railway to transport the court and my furnishings between these residences. I intend to run it through these old sewer tunnels,” the King rapped his finger against the map. “So they will need widening and reinforcing. And I need the entire length of track to be secure — I don’t want any threat of assassination. But most of all, I want it to be fast. So fast I can make the trip to Windsor before a messenger could arrive at Somerset House on horseback.”
    “No, I mean, why me? Surely choosing me over Stephenson will cause friction on the Council?”
    “The nature of this project requires absolute secrecy, Mr. Brunel. Not a single citizen must know of this railway’s existence until I declare it so, do you understand me? Stephenson would not comply with this. Also, his standard gauge just won’t reach the speeds I require, and I feel he has designs for England that don’t comply with my own. I would not worry yourself about Stephenson — despite the animosity on the Council, you have a lot of support in the Royal Society.”
    Isambard leaned over the table, his eyes taking on that glazed look Nicholas recognised from the pump house all those years ago. Nicholas felt sure the task was impossible, but Brunel, unblinking, took in every inch of the proposed line, all twenty-six miles of track, the tunnels to be constructed and reinforced, the complexities of secrecy on such an ambitious project. Finally, he settled back into his chair, and smiled.
    “I will need to make improvements, of course,” he said. “Will I be given a workforce?”
    “You will pull men from the Stoker workforce — men who can be trusted. I will pay you whatever you need from the Royal Purse. It will fall upon your shoulders to ensure this railway remains hidden.”
    “What is the completion date?”
    “Four months from today.”
    Nicholas sucked in his breath — that deadline was impossible. But Brunel said