The Shadow of Great Britain

He said this and couldn’t help but laugh: ”But it’s like placing a captain of outstanding ability and flawless record between Horatio Nelson, Caspar Collingwood, George Rodney, and John Jervis. Of course, you can’t say the captain is unworthy of standing on the deck, but it’s really hard not to notice that he’s been put in an unfair position.”

Someone added: ”The same goes for Ohm.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the hallway was quiet for a moment, then erupted in uncontrollable laughter.

The laughter hadn’t completely dissipated before the hallway of the Royal Society returned to its usual calm, as if the outburst had never occurred.

Meanwhile, at the other end of London City, in the professor’s office on Gower Street at the University of London, a scene completely unrelated to the decorum of the Royal Society was unfolding.

Wheatstone nearly slammed the door shut.

He tossed his coat on the back of a chair, with enough force to make the chair wobble. He paced back and forth in the office as if unsure where to start his outburst, finally stopping in front of the fireplace and turning to speak to Arthur, who was sitting on the sofa.

”You! Dammit, shouldn’t you explain to me?”

Wheatstone’s speech was fast and high-pitched: ”Why did I only see today, on the Royal Society’s bulletin board, that my name is listed alongside Gauss, Humboldt, Arago, and Faraday?”

Arthur’s expression was calm to the point of excess.

He looked down and touched the teacup in his hand, confirming the tea hadn’t gone cold, then slowly raised his eyes: ”Because if I told you in advance... you probably wouldn’t be throwing a tantrum now, but rather finding a way to refuse.”

”Ha!” Wheatstone was so angry he almost wanted to strangle him: ”You’re quite candid! If I’d known it would be like this, why didn’t you get a few more signatures to cover for me back then? Now I’m the only one being laughed at!”

”It’s not just you; isn’t there also Ohm?”

”Ohm? He’s an outsider!” Wheatstone angrily gulped down a cup of tea: ”Now everyone’s attention is on me. How am I supposed to face people after this?”

”Face people?” Arthur lit up leisurely: ”Charles, are you sure this is what you should be worried about?”

Wheatstone was taken aback: ”What do you mean?”

”I mean...” Arthur placed the matchbox back on the tray and reclined into the sofa, appearing disarmingly relaxed: ”You don’t typically see people much anyway.”

”You...” Wheatstone opened his mouth to refute but found himself unable to find a valid example at the moment.

Arthur continued to add insult to injury: ”Aside from necessary lectures, experimental demonstrations, and a few gatherings I occasionally drag you to, where do you prefer to be? The laboratory. To be specific, isn’t what you love most the days spent behind closed doors and drawn curtains, only interacting with coils and batteries?”

”That’s different!” Wheatstone indignantly slammed the table: ”That’s work!”

”Exactly.” Arthur nodded: ”So, I really can’t understand why you’d worry about ’how to face people’ in the future.”

He spread his hands, his tone sincere almost to innocence: ”You can entirely continue your habitual lifestyle.”

Wheatstone was choked with words, finally managing to say: ”Are you trying to console me?”

”Not console you, but cheer you on.” Arthur emphasized: ”Charles, why do you think you’re a lesser figure than Faraday, Humboldt, or Arago? Everyone is engaged in research work, do you lack an ambition for surpassing your predecessors?”

”Ambition in research work?” Wheatstone sneered: ”Coming from your mouth, that’s novel.”

Before Arthur could reply, Wheatstone turned around and pulled a letter from a stack on the desk, lightly tapping the envelope’s edge with his fingertip: ”Since you believe so fervently in equality among researchers, I’d like to ask why you haven’t replied to Gauss’s letter? You see, Gauss even sent the letter to me trying to find you. I must say, Arthur Hastings, do you have any academic integrity?”

Arthur’s casual smile stiffened for a moment, though it was so brief it could almost be ignored, yet it was fully captured by Wheatstone.

”Don’t tell me the Royal Post lost Gauss’s letter to you.” Wheatstone pressed: ”If the letter really got lost, I have two copies Gauss sent here, you should take them back.”

Arthur dared not face the question directly, instead making excuses: ”I’m not replying because I don’t care about those scientific matters; my hands are tied with many urgent official duties. Police reform, Her Majesty the Queen’s coronation ceremony, parliamentary hearings, telegraph line tenders... Charles, do you think everyone can be as fortunate as you, able to fully devote themselves to the supreme research cause? I’d love to be like you, but Her Majesty the Queen doesn’t allow it, nor do the British people!”

”Oh... I see. Seems I’ve wrongly accused you, Arthur.” Wheatstone dramatically covered his face, mimicking a stage soprano’s posture as he sang lamentingly: ”I naively thought you were avoiding Gauss. Little did I know, you were silently bearing the weight for the Queen, for Parliament, for police reform, for the peace of the entire United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.”