Clockwork Memories

by Sarina Dorie

  I uttered the secret code. “For God shall bring every work into judgment, every secret thing, whether good or whether evil. Ecclesiastes 12:14.”

  He responded with the correct phrase back. “Ye have heard that it hath been said, thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy. Matthew 5:43.” His voice came out deep and metallic. The modifier used to disguise the sound of his voice was quite effective. It wasn’t the first time I’d encountered someone using such a device.

  I doubted I needed such a thing after the pains I took to disguise who I was the rest of the time. I whispered, “Have you information?”

  “Of course, I do.” He held his drink up as if to sip. “The Louisiana Territory is lost to the French.”

  “That’s not what the parliament says.”

  “Of course not. They’ll continue milking shillings from anyone they can convince we might take it back. But for us—and the native colonists on those worlds—it’s too late.”

  Despair sank my spirits. Millions of people dead. We’d waited too long. How I wished I didn’t have need of a disguise in this affair. If I were the owner of a fleet of vessels such as my father’s, I wouldn’t sneak and pretend.

  “The French government recently signed the First Contact for First World’s People Pact. They are supposed to aid native colonists, not suppress them,” I said. “How can they get away with this?”

  “The French claim they have nothing to do with it. Supposedly it’s all the doing of brigands and pirates. If that is the truth, you can bet those French soldiers on border patrol turn their heads every time those brigands come through with a slave ship. And sure as the devil, they’ll report every one of our British ships that go through.”

  “How are we to ferry refugees away from the outer moons if we’re up against the entire French fleet?” My voice rose in vexation and I forced myself to tamper down my vehemence. No one in the tavern noticed my outcry. All were drinking their pints, talking or playing cards.

  “I don’t know what we’re to do,” he said at last.

  “We’ve got to try.”

  “Indeed, but how? We haven’t the funds. Let the French suffragists figure out how to get across their own lines to assist the Sumerian colonists. We should focus on the Canadian territories or Planet 157. You’ve heard the rumors surveyors are bringing.”

  Surveyors weren’t the only ones. By Felicity’s accounts, the planet was already inhabited by native colonists. A fact I tried to get her to keep quiet about in my father’s presence. She had no notion of how much danger she put herself in by speaking of such matters. I intended to ensure she remained safe from anyone who would use her for this knowledge, my father included. That meant I would have to keep my own counsel and exclude her from any knowledge of what I did.

  My informant went in a different direction than I anticipated. “Planet 157. Now that’s a planet worth a fortune. Prospectors have collected a handful of precious stones from time to time, but they’ve never located any geologic way of determining where to find them.”

  I thought of the diamonds on Planet 157 that my father wanted so badly. So far his attempts at illegal mining had been unsuccessful. They’d found plenty of oil and other resources, but never diamonds.

  My informant went on. “If we could get our hands on their resources, we’d have the means to help protect their planet. And any others we should wish to assist.”

  “So you’re suggesting we join in the strip mining and dislocation of the native inhabitants in order to assist them?”

  He cleared his throat. “Either way, Planet 157 is the most logical step to aim our efforts.”

  I hated to admit he was right on that account.

  “Lord Klark has been organizing a party to go to the planet in six months,” I said. “I will arrange to have someone associated with our cause included in the trip.” By someone, naturally, I meant myself.

  The memory slipped away and my vision went black. I reached down into the darkness and pulled another memory into me. Then another. The past rushed across my mind like a geyser of water. I saw myself as Meriwether again and again.

  At last I understood him.

  More and more memories flowed into me. I couldn’t stop them. His past overwhelmed me. I felt as though I were drowning. Panic rose up in me. A jolt like fire lanced up my arms and throbbed in my head. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know who I was, a man or a woman, Meriwether or Faith. I heard a high-pitched keening that might have been human. I wasn’t sure if it was coming from me or someone else.

  My world went dark, but who I was, I couldn’t say. My skin felt as though an electric fire had seared through me.

  This must have been what Taishi had once felt when taking on Felicity’s burden of memories.

  Though the haze of it all, I heard a familiar voice, Sumiko’s. It was muffled and unintelligible. It took a moment to realize she said, “Pick up the gun. They’re coming.”

  The bang of distant thuds reminded me of music. A muffled voice shouted in French. I knew that voice well. It was Walker Maddock, my engineering tutor. No, my lover. Why did he sound French instead of British? I was so confused, sorting through the memories. I couldn’t tell which were mine and which were Meriwether’s.

  Something roughly shoved into my side. I blinked to see Sumiko nudging me with an elbow. She had gagged herself and tied her hands in front of her. She pushed me again.

  I fumbled through the covers and found the laser pistol. It was heavy in my fingers. My hands felt dull and numb around the metal. I dropped it to the floor. Climbing out of bed, I tripped and stumbled over my petticoats on the floor.

  Sumiko kicked me. Her words were muffled by the gag. “Get up now. Get the gun.”

  A knock pounded on the door. More thumps came from the bathroom. I picked up the laser pistol and stared at it. My mind was in such a fog. I aimed it at Meriwether where he lay on the bed, but it didn’t work. Oh, yes, the safety.

  I aimed at Meriwether’s leg. The doors swished open behind us. I unlatched the safety and squeezed the trigger. Blue light hissed out the nozzle. The bed went up in flames, wrapping Meriwether in an embrace made of fire. I screamed as I realized I had just murdered the man I loved.

  Part Two

  Sumiko: Two Weeks Earlier

  Chapter Fourteen

  The reed that is rigid breaks in the wind.

  —Ancient Jomon proverb

  The first night on the space ship they called the Absinthe, my nerves danced inside me like eels mating in the spring. Going with Faith into space should have felt like an adventure. I was at last with her away from the tribe and anyone who might disapprove of my feelings, so I should have been happy. But it was hard to feel happy when the ship around me creaked and groaned like it might fall apart at any moment. It made strange tickings and clunks like a tatsu’s belly digesting food.

  My people told stories about our ancestors traveling to our world in the belly of a dragon. I felt like I was trapped in a beast’s belly for all the noise the ship made. Just like in the old tales, my enemies sat in wait for me in the animal’s second stomach.

  That first night I dozed lightly. After about an hour, something clunked in the room as if a door was being opened. I fixed my gaze on the door to outside that Meriwether might use to enter, but that door remained closed. I kept still, keeping my breathing shallow as not to draw attention to myself.

  A dim red light swept across the floor from the wall. My muscles were tense with anticipation. If Meriwether or the captain had entered this room to slit our throats in the middle of the night, I would be ready to attack. A faint whirr sounded at the corner and slowly made its way across the floor. There was something there in the darkness, but I couldn’t tell what. It looked like an upside-down kettle with scrub brushes for feet. The thing bumped its way across the floor, pacing back and forth in a slow dance as though it were looking for something.

  It had to be a kamuy of the ship, the spirit, if it had one. I had never seen
a kamuy on my planet, but the elders said every rock and tree and person had a spirit inside them. I had once thought I felt the spirit of the jungle where my village had lived, but now that the jungle was gone, there was a dark void. This ship was like that flat plain that used to be jungle. I could feel no kamuy. Perhaps the ship’s spirit was lost from its body, searching for a heart to anchor itself to.

  I was rigid with anticipation until the creature left through a door in the wall. The following day I asked Faith about it as I helped her dress.

  She shook her head at me. “You must have dreamed it. Don’t you think I would have woke if some noisy animal came bumping into our room?”

  “It wasn’t an animal. It was a kamuy,” I said.

  At breakfast Faith made flirty eyes with Meriwether. She said she didn’t like him, but her body said otherwise. Later in the day, I stole his clothes and dressed a mannequin to look like him. It made me feel better to throw my knife at it.

  While Faith was busy pretending she wasn’t falling in love with Meriwether Klark, I explored the ship. I was certain Meriwether didn’t have her best intentions in mind. He had stolen one of her memories and wouldn’t give it back. His eyes lied when he talked and his father was a scoundrel. If there was a battle, I would be ready for it. I searched the ship for weapons, strongholds and anything else that might give me an advantage.

  I found many closets with gaijin tools. One contained a stack of upside down metal pots with scrub brushes for feet. I quickly closed the door. They looked just like the kamuy that had snuck into our room. But the eyes weren’t glowing red this time. Perhaps it was a creature and now it was asleep. Slowly I opened the door and peeked at them again. None stirred. Tentatively, I reached forward and touched one. The cold metal felt like the ship. It hummed and clicked. The red eye sparked to life. I drew my hand back and closed the door.

  I didn’t realize the captain would be on the bridge when I went up there. I simply wanted to examine the room. The large screen showed a breath-taking view of the stars. Here in space it was always night, but most of the rooms only showed a small window besides this one.

  Captain Ford grunted when he saw me. “A lady on the bridge is bad luck.”

  That was a strange greeting.

  His beard and hair were silvery white, marking him an elder. I determined that I would be polite and show respect, even if I didn’t like the way he had behaved on my planet. I bowed. He wasn’t drunk now, at least, and he didn’t act like a loud child, so that was an improvement. He sat at a chair with many controls, though he ignored the buttons, levers and winking lights. He laid out pieces of paper with red or black markings on them. He spread them in neat little rows across a table that looked as though it were made of stars.

  “What are you doing?” I asked in English. I didn’t like using English. It felt unnatural on my tongue and I was sure I pronounced every word of it wrong, but somehow the captain understood me.

  “Playing solitaire. You know anything about cards?”

  I shook my head. Some of the pieces of paper had faces on them. As I stepped closer, I thought it was odd how he smelled faintly of memory moss.

  He snorted. “Indeed. Young ladies probably shouldn’t play cards.”

  “I can do anything a man can do.” I lifted my chin.

  “I don’t doubt that.” He looked me up and down. “I might as well teach you. I haven’t anything better to do.”

  It wasn’t how my people would have worded an invitation. I didn’t want to be near this loathsome gaijin any more than I had to. On the other hand, he might know of Meriwether’s plans for Faith and if I coaxed him, he might tell me something useful.

  “I will accept your generosity and allow you to be my teacher,” I said. I looked around for a place to sit.

  He scooped up the pieces of paper and shuffled them together. We moved to the chairs on the lower slope of the bridge with the cushioned seats we had sat in upon takeoff. He explained the values of the cards.

  His gruff manner and sparseness with words reminded me of Tomomi Sensei from home. Suddenly I felt sad and missed her. I wanted home and wondered what would happen if I met Lord Klark and kill him. I might never go home then. I pushed these feelings back inside me and smiled instead.

  I played cards every day with the captain, and sometimes at night when I couldn’t sleep. And sometimes when Faith was busy simpering over Meriwether. She told me she detested him. I wished it were true. I’d seen her lose herself to a pretty face before. If only my face were what she wanted.

  With the captain, I learned twenty-one, poker and German whist.

  The captain laughed at my enthusiasm to learn. “Pretty soon we’re going to have to raise the stakes. You’re getting good enough we can start playing for money.”

  “Money?” I asked.

  Captain Ford took some coins out of his pocket and told me the value for each. He explained the concept of betting.

  “We don’t have money on my planet. How am I to bet? Can I make money with the fabrication machine?” I asked. Meriwether said you could replicate anything with his soulless machines—though I was sure you could replicate a soul.

  The captain scratched his white beard. “You could, but it wouldn’t be worth anything. It would be a wooden slug. Don’t you have anything of value to bet with?”

  I thought of the knife in my boot. That was the most valuable thing I owned. And the most practical. I wasn’t about to barter it away.

  “How about some of those pretty red stones you Jomon keep about?”

  I laughed. “Chiramantep stones?”

  He leaned forward eagerly. I didn’t know which was more disgusting, his undisguised greed or the idea of one of those stones. I shook my head. I didn’t keep anything in my pocket that animals might pass out of their urine.

  “How about some memory moss?” he asked.

  “What would you want that for? Do you have a lady you’d like to court at home?”

  “Never mind that,” he said.

  Was he trying to say he wanted to court me? No, I didn’t think that was it. He had smelled faintly of memory moss that first time I had walked in on him on the bridge. That meant he had some of the medicinal herb.

  “I’ve been growing memory moss on the ship,” I said. “In a few days, I think I will have enough to spare. Do you have memory moss to bet with?”

  He grinned. “I think I can scrounge some up.”

  I didn’t know what he was doing with memory moss of his own. He must have collected it on Aynu-Mosir, but I couldn’t guess why.

  “You know you aren’t supposed to use it for memory exchange with someone who isn’t willing,” I said.

  “As a matter of fact, I do know that.” He cleared his throat and his face flushed red. “I’m not about to force memory exchange on anyone.”

  I averted my eyes so he wouldn’t lose face. Back on Aynu-Mosir he’d gotten in trouble for his bad behavior while drinking. One of the women had used memory moss on him without telling him what she was doing to make him see what she thought of gaijin. The only reason she hadn’t gotten in trouble for giving him so many bad memories was because he said he didn’t mind she’d shared with him in this way.

  It didn’t seem like he had any reason to want memory moss after that experience. Unless he understood what role it played in creating the red diamonds he wanted. I wasn’t going to share the herbs I had been growing if he was going to waste it by feeding it to the chiramantep. It put them in such agony to pass the stones. Anyone who had a heart could see how horrible it was.

  The door swished open and I looked to the entrance that led to the hallway, but the doors remained closed. I looked around. Out of the wall came one of the upside-down cauldrons. I leapt to my feet and pointed.

  “Do you see it?” I asked. Finally, I had a witness.

  “Yes, yes. It’s just a robotic maid, a kind of machine. Now will you sit down and finish playing poker?”

  A robot didn’t have a soul. No
machine did. Anything without a soul was certain to steal one for itself. That night when the robot came to my room, I woke as usual. This time, dancing across the floor wasn’t enough. Familiarity must have made it bold. It stole the attush robe that I had draped over a chair.

  Perhaps it had thought my attush was my soul. As it was, I was naked and didn’t have a spare attush. I leapt out of bed and held fast as it clicked and whirred through the little door in the wall. I yanked on my robe, but the machine pulled with such force I could feel the fabric tearing.

  I momentarily released the robe and dove into the little passage after the machine. Though I punched it with my fist, I’m sure this hurt me more than the machine, even if I did manage to get a good dent in the side.

  The passage around me was lit by the robotic maid’s glowing red eye. I could see well enough to notice it try to get away. The contraption whirled and I punched it again. I would have liked to kick it, but there wasn’t room in the cramped shaft.

  I struck it hard enough that it toppled over. I managed to jam it in the eye with enough force that the light went out. Now I was in darkness. I shimmied my attush from its snatches. I might have gone back to my room, but I heard voices echo from ahead. I squeezed around the soulless metal monster and crawled down the hallway, dragging my robe along with me. I scooted through the twists and turns in the passage until I found where the voices came from. I pushed on the wall. It soundlessly swung open.

  Meriwether and the Captain Ford spoke in Meriwether’s room. I couldn’t see anything but their feet and slowly closed the hatch. It was hard to understand what they were talking about. Their accents were so much more difficult to understand than Faith’s, especially when they talked fast. It was British talk, she called it, or at least Meriwether’s was. Plus, they spoke about automatons and used many words I didn’t understand. It was almost as bad as French.

  “Are you certain this ship was built after 1867?” Meriwether asked. “If it is, it should be safe for me to refit the cylinder body without losing compression from the steam chamber, but if this is a model—”