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"My life could have been very different. There's no sense dwelling on what might have been; but there are moments to consider it, perhaps."[1]
The August Travel-Writer, alias Robert F. Harris, is an elusive man on the run from his past. Referred to as "the bachelor" by his neighbors, he lives alone and is rarely found at home.[2] He was once a tenant of the Soft-Hearted Widow,[3] but left her care to avoid his father, who was a friend of the Widow.[4]
Harris served on a zubmarine as a Lieutenant under his father, the Severe Bluejacket (alias Captain Harris);[5] their unit led the Admiralty's final attempt to establish diplomatic relations with the Flukes. However, the Bluejacket panicked and provoked the Flukes into attacking,[6] resulting in devastating losses for the Admiralty.[7] In the aftermath, the Agreement About Nothing of Consequence was signed, and Lieutenant Harris took the fall for his father’s failure.[7]
As punishment, the Bluejacket sent his son to serve aboard a lifeberg-hunting vessel. Fate was not kind, as the ship wrecked on the very lifeberg they pursued;[8] Harris was one of the few survivors. Escaping the wreckage, he journeyed to the Avid Horizon,[9] where he signed his name to plead for absolution.[7] The Admiralty responded by assigning him to enforce the Agreement About Nothing of Consequence.[10]
Harris receives information on his targets from the Admiralty.[11] He has become a master of disguise[12] and adept at using a wide variety of weapons, no matter how crude.[13] For targets which require him to move across the Unterzee, he masquerades as a travel writer, using interviews as cover for his assignments.[14] His killings are often messy, gruesome, and highly public,[15] serving as brutal warnings against breaking the Agreement.[16]
Harris regrets his involvement in the project that preceded the Agreement, and views his current occupation as a means of atonement.[17][18] He despises his father, and even altered his face with the aid of the Face-Tailor so that he would not be recognized.[18]
↑Where You and I Must Go , Fallen London"There is a row of modest homes on the outskirts of Elderwick. [...] Lichen climbs the bricks of Robert Harris' home like ivy. The quiet man who lives here is known to the gossiping wives merely as 'the bachelor'. He works all hours on any kind of odd job. He's out right now."
↑A Confession of the Soft-Hearted Widow, Fallen London"The Widow has written of an August Travel-Writer she took in; better heeled than her usual lodgers, but insistent – his plight must have been desperate indeed. He kept odd hours and was often away, but on chilly evenings they shared tea and spoke of the prior Sunday's sermon. Until one November morning, when she found his room empty, and her lodger gone."
↑The Season of Wrecks, Fallen London"[...] The zubmarine shudders as a torpedo launches. Moments later, a shockwave rocks the vessel. [...] The Fluke-song changes. It is no longer curious; it is incensed. Their embassy has been profaned, and today they have learned that their domain is worth killing for. [...] Trespassers, they sing as they slay. Trespassers!"
↑ 7.07.17.2Where You and I Must Go, Fallen London"'Lt R. F. Harris. During Lorn Embassy fired on a rival Khanate zubmarine. Ensuing conflict roused wrath of Flukes; resulted in all-hands loss of fourteen zubsurface vessels.'"
↑Where You and I Must Go , Fallen London"[...] His flesh barely covers his bones. Is he Robert Harris? [...] "No. He has gone. To Avid Horizon." The man slumps back into his pile and waves you away."
↑Where You and I Must Go, Fallen London"[...] Your Lieutenant Harris is now the man who enforces that Agreement. His methods are final, and intended to dissuade others engaged in zubmarine research. [...]"
↑Where You and I Must Go , Fallen London"Inside the stove are papers, thoroughly burned. The remains disintegrate in your hand. Any surviving scraps are plain, unmarked – save one, which has only the hint of the Admiralty's watermark. Official orders, perhaps?"
↑Where You and I Must Go , Fallen London"With this jacket, he could be a university professor. A Veilgarden dilettante in this suit, or – in those shoes – perhaps the height of Ladybones fashion. Here's an advocate's wig. A curate's robe and a gasman's uniform. A constable's badge. A zailor's collar. A chef's toque blanche."
↑Where You and I Must Go , Fallen London"A ball-pein hammer. Long nails. A screwdriver (no screws). A handsaw, waxed to a shine. Trowels. And a wrench, stained bloody. A sticky strand of hair still clings to it, like a filament of zeeweed on a fishing rod."
↑Drop off the August Travel-Writer, Sunless Sea"The Travel-Writer sets across the planks with good speed, his briefcase in his hand. It seems heavy, although he claimed it held only documents and writing equipment for an interview with a pirate king."
↑Drop off the August Travel-Writer, Sunless Sea"[...] a crowd rushes by the café. They gather at the foot of a lamppost, gawking, shrieking, gasping. A woman is strung from the light, her face sliced like Venetian blinds. "Heavens," a pale navigator whispers. "Isn't she the explorer? Said she meant to plant a flag on the zee-bed?" No one replies. [...]"
↑Drop off the August Travel-Writer, Sunless Sea"The day passes relatively peacefully. [...] By night, the boisterous cheer has given way to whispers about an uncommonly brutal murder, executed within an experimental shipyard. They say you couldn't enter the yard without stepping in the victim."
↑Where You and I Must Go , Fallen London"We've no business beneath the waves. We're trespassers, there. Do you know what we did to win the favour of those things beneath the zee? It was beyond criminal: it was sin. [...] If my work saves poor sods from the amber and the needles then I'll do it and I'll smile."
↑ 18.018.1Where You and I Must Go , Fallen London"Harris turns his face. The faintest outline of a scar catches the light. "He'd not recognise me after what the Face Tailor did. No matter, though. I have no feeling for the man. Tell him what you like. [...] He will understand. It's his sin I atone for, at the day's end.""
