Mud and Brass

by Andrew Knighton

pulleys in ways they'd never done before. It looked chaotic, but there was a purpose behind it all. He knew because the purpose was his.

  Behind him, Shackleton roared his anger as workers abandoned their posts, terrified by the erratically bucking machines.

  Niggle passed beneath another loom and rose to his feet. None of the machines were acting as they should any more. Looms spun spirals and balls. Cranes rose and fell like birds pecking at the floor. Cutting arms twitched, smashing windows and chopping pallets into fine kindling. Shrieks of panic rose, workers running for the doors, dodging the carnage around them.

  Threads filled Niggle's hand, and his device was returning with more. He twitched one, watched a crane raise and lower a pallet. He tugged another and saw a chopping blade dice a supervisor's desk. A third yank made two looms lean together, shuttles passing from one to the other, threads connecting the machines.

  'You little shit!' Shackleton stormed across the floor, dodging the increasingly frantic machines. 'How dare you do this to my factory?'

  'How dare you do this to people?' Niggle ducked as a loom burst free of its fixings, smashing a hole in the wall. 'Grinding them up and spitting them out to keep you rich.'

  A crane rammed the wall, its arm pounding like a hammer at the brickwork. The ceiling was shaking now, timbers falling around them. Niggle twitched a thread, a crane rising to protect fleeing workers from a falling beam. Brick dust and splinters filled the air.

  Shackleton roared and rushed at Niggle, who turned and ran, darting between swinging timbers and hurtling threads. He stopped at a window. Below, the River Burr lapped at the base of the building.

  'I'll smash you to a bloody pulp!' Shackleton's bellow of rage was almost lost in the chorus of crashes. 'I'll pull your nuts out through your spleen! I'll use your brains for engine oil! I'll...'

  A loom collapsed outwards. The Mercer tried to dive clear but he was too close. Falling beams knocked him to the floor, trapping him beneath their dead weight.

  A snarl of animal satisfaction rose through Niggle, pushing down his guilt at seeing a man injured at his hands. He yanked hard on the threads. The machines fell still. The only sound was his device, scuttling out of the shadows, following the lines back to his feet. The room smelt of gas. Half the lamps still flickered against one wall, but the rest were out, their broken pipes hissing. The workers were gone, leaving only him and Shackleton.

  'I've never danced,' Niggle said. 'Not once. But when I'm done with you, with your factory, with your whole life, when I'm done I'll dance on the remains and call it justice.'

  'Thomas?'

  Gloria stood at the far end of the hall, her expression of stunned incomprehension turning to horror at the sight before her. Her father trapped and bleeding. Her home and fortune tearing itself apart. And Niggle, gloating over it all.

  'You used me,' she said, aghast. The certainty in her voice devastated Niggle. How could he not have realised? The most beautiful thing in the whole world, the woman who had shown him such affection, and she was part of what he had destroyed. Worse, she was the one who had let him in. So wrapped up in his hate, he hadn't let himself be moved by love.

  'I hate you!' She rushed towards him, arms outstretched, tears streaming down her face. 'I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!'

  She slammed into Niggle. Glass shattered like his broken heart as he stumbled back through the window, threads still clutched in his fingers.

  'I hate you!' Her voice echoed after him as he tumbled into the dirty water. Above, the machines roared back into life, the chaos he'd conceived unleashed one last time.

  Niggle crawled out of the Burr and collapsed on his back in the mud, staring across the river at Shackleton's ruined factory. Through a haze of smog and unravelling emotions, he was faintly aware of the passage of time. Events occurred as if on another world. Fire flickered at windows. Machines burst through walls, falling in pieces through the smoke. An airship descended to a shattered window and figures climbed aboard, a slender girl supporting a large, injured man. Chunks of wall fell away or were destroyed by explosions. At last, as the sun set and fire crews futilely flung water at the building, the whole edifice came crashing down.

  There was something in his pocket. A thick disk of cold metal. He pulled it out.

  Her watch. The one he had promised to mend. He stared at it as the minute hand ticked round. He felt hollowed out. So many years committed to vengeance. Now it was done. And gone with it was the best thing he had ever found. He couldn't bring himself to move, not even to cry. There was nothing left.

  A boot prodded at his shoulder.

  'You alright, Mister Niggle?' A mudlark stared down at him, face screwed up with concern. 'You should get up. Don't want my best customer catchin' cold and dyin'.'

  'I lost something precious,' Niggle said.

  'What, down here in the mud?'

  'No. Up there in the sky.'

  The mudlark frowned. Scabbed, dirty hands dragged Niggle upright and led him, unresisting, towards the shore. 'I think you bumped your head, Mister Niggle. But never mind. Whatever you lost, we'll find you a new one. You can find anythin' here, down in the mud.'

  About the Author

  I live in northwest England, where the grey skies provide an excellent incentive to stay indoors and write. I was once the butler to a band of Victorian adventurers, but now prefer a quieter life.

  If you enjoyed this then please leave a review of it at your regular ebook store - it’s just about the most helpful thing you can do for a new author like me.

  If you'd like to read more of my stories, you can get a free copy of my steampunk collection Riding the Mainspring by signing up to my mailing list.

  You might also like my other books:

  The Epiphany Club:

  Guns and Guano - Victorian adventurer Dirk Dynamo joins an expedition to a remote island as he begins a hunt for the lost Great Library of Alexandria - *free in most ebook stores*.

  Suits and Sewers - Dirk’s journey takes him into the sewers below London, pursuing ninjas in search of a stolen artefact.

  Aristocrats and Artillery - As war descends on Paris, Dirk seeks the third clue to the Great Library.

  Sieges and Silverware - Dirk’s adventure takes him to Germany, where strange things roam in a castle under siege.

  Dead Men and Dynamite - At last Dirk has all the clues, but can he find the Great Library before his enemies do?

  Short stories:

  Riding the Mainspring - a collection of steampunk short stories featuring moving buildings and incredible machines.

  From a Foreign Shore - history and alternate history short stories, featuring Vikings and a statue that refuses to die.

  By Sword, Stave or Stylus - fantasy short stories featuring a shadow-draped ninja, a gladiator painting in manticore blood and a knight so stupid that he just might win.

  Lies We Will Tell Ourselves - the future is uncertain and the truth even more so in these science fiction short stories.

  For more information on my books, including details of new releases and free stories, please sign up to my mailing list at this link.

  You can read free stories from me, as well as thoughts on books and writing, on my blog at https://andrewknighton.com/ . I’m also on Twitter where I go by the name of @gibbondemon .

  Thanks for reading!

  Dedication and Thanks

  This story is dedicated to Laura, with endless love and gratitude.

  Thank you to Charlotte Bond for the writing prompt that inspired this story and for helping me polish it into something worth reading.

  Huge thanks as well to Russell Phillips, whose good guidance got me started on the path to self-publishing.

  Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

 
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