Timekeeper

by Tara Sim

  “Will you take me up into the sky, Caelum?” Aetas asked. “I have never been, and I would like to explore your domain. I have seen Oceana’s world, and Terra’s, but now I would like to explore yours.”

  “It would be an honor, Brother.”

  So Caelum held Aetas and beat his powerful wings to launch them higher, away from the water and earth that Aetas loved and up into a colder world, thin of air and thick with moisture. They landed upon the ridge of a cloud, and the gods’ feet settled on swirling iridescent fog.

  They were sailing on an insubstantial ship, and the world below was their sea. Lights shuttered and blinked beneath them, and the cold darkness above swallowed sound. Aetas could see into the heart of that darkness, into the galaxies of paintbrush colors and the swirling trembling masses of stars dying and being born. Somewhere beyond rested Chronos. He’d grown weary and had long ago left his four creations to care for the world in his stead.

  “What do you think of my domain, Brother?” Caelum asked. His eyes were clear and silver, refracting light like shards of glass. They reflected the fires and the lights below, the people small as weevils, their tiny homes and their structured lives.

  “It is a good place,” said Aetas, “if a bit solemn.”

  “I enjoy the quiet,” Caelum said. “The restless energy of the world and the restless energy of the galaxies meet here in this sliver that is mine.”

  Aetas thought it was a noble place to stay. But even as he thought this, Caelum pointed down to earth.

  “Something is wrong,” he said. “Aetas, where is the morning?”

  Aetas had been standing here for so long, he didn’t know how much time had fled from his body. Panicked, he reached for the time threads that connected him to earth. They were stretched too far, too thin. Their light turned pale like wheat bleached from the sun.

  “I must return,” he said.

  Caelum nodded and took him from the cloud, and together they flew back to earth. Aetas wound the threads around himself as they went, pulling in the night, bringing in the morning. Time shuddered and seized, stubborn at first, then giving in with a sigh.

  Standing on the shore, Aetas watched the crescent of the sun begin to rise.

  Caelum looked at him, worry creasing his brow.

  “My brother, you seem tired.”

  In case Chronos was listening, Aetas said, “I am fine now that I have returned. Thank you for showing me the sky. I will never forget it.” But deep within his core he felt the weariness building, the tremor of the time threads, the fear that he would run out of strength to maintain this beautiful earth beneath the stars.

  Please, sir, tell me it isn’t true.”

  The Lead stood at his window, smoothing his mustache with thick fingers. It was odd to think those fingers had once been in the field, delicately fixing clockwork. Most mechanics’ hands were slender, like Danny’s.

  “Sir,” Danny tried again, sitting on the very edge of his seat. “Please.”

  “Daniel,” the Lead sighed, finally turning to him, “what do you expect me to do? You’re the best in your class, it’s true, but Lucas is more qualified to assist the other mechanics at the new Maldon tower. He has a good disposition for it. More than that, the Enfield assignments were difficult for you, and I don’t want you under more strain.”

  “They weren’t difficult. If you read my reports again, you’ll see I didn’t have any trouble. Sir, this … this assignment is what I’ve wanted for months. You told me you would consider me.”

  “And so I did. But I’ve come to the conclusion that the emotional attachment you have to Maldon could affect your work. Your father being freed depends on this project’s success. I can’t trust a mechanic with so much to lose on this job. It’s too dangerous, both for the tower and the mechanic.”

  Danny shook. He wanted to smash the room apart, rip the little metal balls off the kinetic toy and throw them at the window until it cracked.

  “More than that,” the Lead went on, sitting, “you hit another mechanic. Lord knows your reasons, but I feel the stress may have gotten to you. You’ll be put on suspension for a couple of weeks.”

  “Lucas provoked me!”

  “That’s not a good reason, Daniel.”

  A scream built in Danny’s throat, but he held it there, trapped, and it burned his vocal cords. Nobody believed him—nobody cared. But if he didn’t do something soon, Colton might hurt himself again.

  Danny stood and grabbed his bag. The Lead called him back, but Danny pretended not to hear. He was already in trouble. What else could they do to him?

  He slammed the door on his way out. The secretary jumped, but he ignored her, too. He ignored everything except the gripping impulse that told him what he had to do.

  It was harder than he thought to find the mechanic who had replaced him. Danny wandered the office asking this secretary and that, but they all shook their heads or shrugged.

  He stopped short when he spotted Matthias down the hall. He wasn’t alone. Tom and George crowded him, speaking in low voices.

  Danny didn’t want to make himself known, not after what Tom had said to him last time, but the sight unnerved him. Matthias said something that made Tom clench his fist. George caught his friend’s arm even as Matthias stepped back with hands raised in supplication. Tom spat a few words, turned, and clomped awkwardly down the stairs, George trailing after him.

  Matthias heard Danny’s careful approach and lifted his head. His face was flushed from the encounter, or maybe because Danny had witnessed it.

  “What did they say to you?” Danny demanded.

  Matthias rubbed the back of his thick neck. “Nothing of consequence.” At Danny’s frown, his lips twitched. “They knew I was snooping in their offices.”

  “Snooping?”

  “Well.” Matthias crossed his arms and leaned in, though there was no one else around. “To be honest, Danny, I don’t trust them. Never have. And what with Tom being at Shere before you, it’s too much of a coincidence. So I went into his office, thinking I could find some sort of hint. But there was nothing.”

  “I found something,” Danny blurted. Matthias’s eyebrows shot upward, and Danny figured he might as well admit to the rest. “Or, at least, what I found was strange. Tom had a bag full of pipes in his office.”

  “Pipes?”

  “Does that mean anything to you?”

  Matthias shook his head. “No. Not a thing.”

  Danny swallowed his disappointment.

  “You look pale, Danny Boy. What’s the matter? Want to come down to the café with me?”

  “I’ve already had tea, thanks.”

  “Is it about your mum?”

  “My—? Oh, no.” She was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment, though he couldn’t help remembering her look at the kitchen table the other night.

  “I saw the mouse you copped on Lucas. What’re you up to? I thought you were better than that.”

  Danny pressed his lips together. “Says the man who does it for fun.”

  “Used to, Danny, used to. I’m different now.” He seemed disappointed about it, too. Danny thought back to Tom’s fist and how Matthias had forced himself to raise his open hands, to step back.

  “You taught me how to fight.”

  “Yes, and now I’m regretting it.” The corners of Matthias’s eyes softened. “Come with me. Let’s talk.”

  Danny would have. He wanted to leave this place and talk to Matthias, maybe even tell him about Colton. But just then Danny spotted a familiar gray vest down the hall.

  “Brandon!”

  The apprentice looked over his shoulder. Danny waved frantically, signaling him to wait. The boy rolled his eyes.

  “Sorry, Matthias,” Danny said. “Some other time.”

  Danny ran down the length of the hall toward the gray-clad apprentice, who didn’t seem particularly thrilled to see him.

  “I’m glad I caught you. There’s been a problem.”

  �
��Enfield again, is it?”

  “Well, sort of. Here, let’s step out of the way.” He looked down the hall, but Matthias was gone.

  As Danny explained what had happened, the apprentice’s eyebrows furrowed. Danny probably sounded like a first-rate crank, especially if word had gotten out about him hitting Lucas.

  “Why’s it so important to keep this tower?” he asked when Danny wrapped up his fumbling plea.

  “It’s hard to say. I just feel rather attached to it.” When Brandon didn’t react, Danny realized he’d have to dig deeper. “They think I’m weak. That I can’t handle it. Ever since my accident in Shere, the Lead’s been treating me like I’m this fragile creature who’ll break at the first sign of strain. I want to show him different. But I’ll need help.”

  Brandon thought it over. His eyes trailed from right to left, looking between two answers. “I don’t think there’s much you can do once it’s assigned. Sorry mate, but I’ve got an assessment coming up, and I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  As he spoke, Brandon took out his tiger’s eye and rolled it between his fingers like a priest handling rosary beads. Danny didn’t even think before he snatched the marble from Brandon’s hand.

  “Oy—!”

  “I’ll give it back if you agree to help me.”

  “What are you, a child?” Brandon made a grab, but Danny hopped back a few paces.

  “Brandon, please. I swear this won’t come back to you. If I’m caught, I’ll take all the blame. I’ll say that I lied to you, that I made you think the Lead reassigned Enfield to me. You’ll be clear for your assessment.”

  Brandon exhaled angrily through his nose. Danny knew that the boy could easily take him in a fight, but Brandon didn’t seem the fisticuffs sort. Finally, after a minute of deliberation, Brandon nodded once. “All right. I’ll ask around. If I find out the new mechanic’s name, I’ll send word.”

  Danny thanked Brandon profusely, gave him back the marble, and left before someone like the Lead saw him lurking around the office.

  At home he walked from room to room in a daze. If someone found him out, he would be in serious trouble. He was already on a two-week suspension. Then again, if his relationship with Colton was exposed in any way, or if the mysterious bomber decided to turn to Enfield next—

  He stopped dead, shivering all over. It only occurred to him now how odd it was to say bomber, singular, when it could easily be bombers, plural. If people who were unhappy with the towers got ideas …

  The telephone rang. He almost ran into the wall in his hurry to reach the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “Danny, is it?”

  It was Brandon’s slow drawl. Danny deflated in relief.

  “Have you heard anything?”

  “They said there’s an Enfield job next week, something about cleaning the clockwork.”

  I already did that.

  “The new mechanic they’re pairing me with is Daphne Richards.”

  Danny must have groaned, because Brandon made a sound of amusement.

  “I asked her for a drink at the Winchester to get to know her beforehand. Tomorrow at six.”

  Danny could have reached through the receiver and kissed him. “I owe you a drink myself. No, five drinks.”

  Brandon huffed and hung up.

  Danny stared out at the thick gray rain, thinking. How could he possibly convince someone like Daphne Richards to hand over a job based on some wish-wash? Especially if he was on suspension. Especially if she hated him.

  But then he thought of Colton’s smile, and his resolve hardened.

  His mother didn’t come home until late, and by then he was already in bed. He listened to her heels clacking against the hardwood floors as the rain continued on into the night. When she finally came upstairs, he expected her to go to her bedroom. He startled when she knocked on his door.

  “What, Mum?”

  She eased the door open and looked inside. “Are you all right, Danny?”

  “What d’you mean?”

  She took a hesitant step toward him, a dark form relieved only a little by the watery moonlight. “You’ve been acting odd lately. Something must be going on.”

  Danny slumped against the headboard, glad that she couldn’t see his face. “I’m fine, Mum.”

  “Do you … want to talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  It wasn’t a good feeling, lying to his mother, especially when she was trying. Why was she even trying? Why now? Why not three years ago, when he had needed her most?

  Besides, he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  She waited a moment, sighed, and the shadow of her head nodded.

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  She left, and he wanted to call after her—say, maybe, that he wasn’t upset with her, but that he was too busy with his own life to try understanding hers. Or to give into a childish yearning and ask her to sit beside him, to hold his hand until he fell asleep. To feel her cool fingers on his brow before she swept his hair back and kissed his forehead good night, as she used to do.

  The door closed with a soft snick.

  The rain had flooded the auto, and for a while it wouldn’t start. When it rolled down the street it hiccupped a couple times, and Danny wondered if the world did not want him to succeed at anything.

  He still managed to get to the Winchester with time to spare, so he sat in the auto and planned what to say. He had written his argument down, repeating the words until he had them memorized.

  “Miss Richards, I respect our profession as clock mechanics and would never do anything to harm either of our careers. However, the clock in Enfield is my project and, therefore, my responsibility. I think you’re a much better mechanic than most—better than me—but I understand how this clock works. So if you don’t mind, I’ll let the Lead Mechanic know we’ve spoken and head up there next week. You don’t want Colton Tower, anyway; it’s a dingy clock in a dingy town. I’m sure you’d much prefer grander assignments. Of course, I don’t mean to cheat you of your earnings, so we could switch jobs or I can pay you something upfront. Oh, no, it wouldn’t be a bribe! Merely a gift of thanks. I’m sure you understand.”

  His timepiece read five to six. He took a steadying breath and walked into the pub.

  It was already crowded with patrons and noise, the smell of food and drink mingling with the scent of bodies after a long workday. Danny scanned the crowd until he saw her at a round table. He recognized Daphne by her long blonde hair and the diamond-shaped tattoo beside her right eye. The apprentices always made up stories as to why she had it; no one in the Union knew the real reason.

  She was dressed in a dark jacket that buttoned diagonally, and she’d tied a blue kerchief around her neck. She attracted a few stares from men and women alike. Danny knew from his own mother’s muttering that some women thought wearing men’s clothes was beneath them.

  Danny squeezed through the crowd, murmuring apologies and getting beer spilled on him until he reached her side. She ran frosty blue eyes over him like a cat evaluating a mongrel’s size and potential for trouble. Danny tried to smile, and she scoffed.

  “No thanks. I’m not that desperate.”

  “What? No, I’m here to talk about Enfield.”

  “Enfield?” She looked him over again. “Brandon Summers was supposed to meet me here. Not you.”

  “Well, it’s me you’re going to get.” Danny sat beside her, but not too close. “Seeing as I’m the current Enfield mechanic.”

  This was a bold thing to say, since technically he wasn’t the only mechanic who could be called to Enfield. It was rare for someone to be assigned to a clock tower full time.

  Daphne raised an eyebrow. “You’re the current mechanic.” He couldn’t tell if it was a question.

  He thought about his speech, the one he’d planned so precisely in his head. He opened his mouth and took in a breath to begin, but all that came o
ut was, “You can’t go to Enfield.”

  Her high, smooth forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Of course I can.”

  “You shouldn’t, though, is what I’m saying.”

  “What are you talking about?” Daphne hadn’t finished her drink, but she looked ready to bolt.

  “I’ve been working in Enfield lately, and I know that clock tower better than anyone. It was a mistake to assign you there.”

  “A mistake?” Her voice turned low and her long, pale fingers curled around the tabletop’s edge.

  “What I mean is—you’re a wonderful mechanic. You might even be better than me. I mean, wait … you are better than me—”

  “How would you know? You’ve never seen me work. And for that matter, yes, I’m a better and more qualified mechanic than you are. Why are you wasting my time?”

  His plan was going to shambles. Danny imagined Colton’s disappointed face, the Enfield tower exploding. He gathered himself for another attempt. “But that’s it exactly! You’re much too qualified to be stuck with a lousy, small clock like the one in Enfield. You deserve better projects, better towers, which is why I’m offering to take this assignment. Trust me, you don’t want to work in a place like Enfield.”

  Her eyes never left his face. He schooled his expression into what he hoped was concern, the face of a young man who would never lie.

  Finally, she said, “You never told me what you were doing in Tom’s office.”

  Danny stomped down the urge to scowl. “I think we’re about even, don’t you?” When she looked confused, he clarified, “You told the Lead.”

  “I didn’t tell the Lead anything.”

  Now it was his turn to be confused. If she hadn’t told the Lead about being in Tom’s office, then why had he taken Danny off the Enfield assignment?

  She traced the outline of her glass as she stared at him. “If you take the Enfield assignments from me, how am I supposed to get paid? I have to feed myself.”

  “Why don’t we switch assignments? Or I could pay you. Here, I’ll even buy your drink.” He tried not to cringe at the thought of more lost money.