Saturday, 7 June 2008

Dear glad to have found you

It has been a long time since I wrote here. I have only just found this diary, the pages matted and congealed from exposure to the waters. It was lost in the floods in the canals back in the last months of the previous year to this and only today did I find it stuck upon a bookshelf amongst my many other books, I can only guess that it was found by one of my friends when we moved the house earlier this year and was placed there for safe keeping. Still I digress from the business at hand. To bring things largely up to date.

And yes, I have moved home, in the most literal sense. The canals plot with its delightful view of the ocean was sadly too small to support the building and my expectations and so I endeavoured to acquire a larger plot of land. As luck would have plot of land was made available in the Babbage Palisade, the oldest part of our fair city, the plot formerly a series of low grade homes that had unfortunately fallen in to ruin was suitable for clearance and permission to build was granted by our Mayor, Mr. Sprocket. Thus with the aid of a few helpers we moved not just the contents but each and every brick and fitting from the canals to their new place of rest. The new location is beautiful just beside the wonderful old city wall. I made a mistake in the rebuilding of the house however and the walls are no longer perfectly true which has caused my no small amount of discomfort in the continued building. I shall at some point pluck up the courage to tear down the building and start again as I think that this may be the only true solution.

There is more though, before the house was moved I had acquired a plot in the Vernian sea. This exciting new environment is an underwater extension to the city and with buildings serviced by grid steam and surface pumped air, accessible through luxurious glass and steel tunnels is the epitome of modern scientific advances and an idyllic spot in which to set up a new place. I bought a large plot and have built a large construction that should one day soon open its doors as the worlds first underwater restaurant and hotel, a quiet retreat away from the hustle and bustle of modern city life. Within the facility I intend to deploy many of my own industrial products and employ the services of steam men; I chastise myself for such blatant masculine terminology but one can but consider them as male when you consider their demeanour. To look into their eyes is to gaze into the void, their mechanical minds not capable of original thought, programmed as they are to their developed purpose a one track mind in the most primitive sense. Still a steam man, regularly maintained, has never yet let me down, in that much they differ from their namesakes.

In the months since its building I have left the build to test its resilience to the forces of nature, to let Neptune's wrath try to break in, and so far we have had but minor incidents. There is however something amiss with the atmosphere, the pumped air from Babbage is plentiful enough but somehow the building retains a musty, damp feel. I am therefore contemplating an overhaul of the larger spaces to incorporate and furthermore, sustain plant life in the hope that this will cleanse the air. I have heard tales of the Aether travellers using plant life to a similar effect.

Finally, what of the plot left behind in the canals? I have decided to retain this also and am building a factory complex. A manufacturing facility in which Janus creations will be constructed and from which they will be dispatched. Not being inclined to simple industrial dullness I have contrived to build the factory with some of the charm of my childhood memories of the ... ah but I forget myself... it would not do to write of that even if this were a private journal, nothing is truly private after all. I have had reason to be concerned as to my past life in recent weeks. A stranger entered my house, as is so often found in Babbage, and as such an event to which I am accustomed. However this stranger was presented as a gentleman but behaved as quite the opposite, his approach too close, swathed in the vapours of excessive liquor, his interests purely carnal. As I berated him and sent him on his way he commented that he would rather the coquette than the prude. Perhaps it is all in my mind, perhaps he was simply a stupid drunk, perhaps he had lost his way from Miss Nightfire's establishment, but it has set one to wondering, to dwelling on the past. Oh Tali, I miss you, with each and every day, oh how I wish that I had the Faith, to think, nay, believe that with each passing day I move a day nearer to our reunion, but alas my hard heart sides with my head and I know that this is not so.

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