The Clockwork God

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The Clockwork God Page 11

by Jamie Sedgwick


  “I think the Keeper may have underestimated your companion,” Thane whispered to Kale in a low voice.

  Socrates rolled his shoulders, testing the movement of his limbs. Nothing appeared damaged. River pressed her face to the bars in her cage. “Socrates, are you going to break us out of here?”

  “One thing at a time,” he said. “The chains on my legs are much heavier, and the bars on this cage…” He stepped forward to examine them. “I believe escape is possible, given enough time.”

  “All that massive strength,” Shayla observed thoughtfully. “You allowed them to capture you, didn’t you? Why?”

  “I already explained why,” Socrates muttered. “I went to the Keeper in trust, and he betrayed me. Everyone in this town saw that.”

  “Ah, and so now they will question their leader’s honesty, is that it?” said Thane.

  “I’m sure they already had,” said Socrates. “I have simply provided evidence to the fact.”

  “Subversive,” Thane said in a tone of admiration. “You are a dangerous political opponent.”

  Socrates thumped down on the floor next to his leg chains and gave them a tug, testing their strength. They were considerably heavier and stronger than the ones on his wrist had been. The weak spot remained the same in both cases: the shackles. He fumbled around his rib cage for a moment, locating a hidden switch, and pressed it. The side of his rib cage swung open, revealing a section of ribs made from iron or some other blackish metal, and just beneath, a small chamber filled with tools. Socrates reached into his torso and withdrew a small tool with multiple screwdriver-like attachments. He began fumbling with the locks on his ankles, and Kale let out a cheer.

  “I should’ve known you’d have a backup plan,” he said.

  “Being prepared is not the same as having a plan,” Socrates said wisely. “I had no way of knowing the Keeper wasn’t an honorable man, nor could I possibly have known he’d lock me in this tower with the rest of you. It was simply a matter of probabilities… and the fact that I already keep these tools with me for maintenance purposes. I am a machine, you realize.”

  “So you are,” Thane said. “And yet unlike any other I’ve ever seen. Who created you?”

  “I’m afraid that is a story for another time,” Socrates said as the shackle on his right leg opened. He tossed it aside and quickly began working on the second. They heard shouting outside the window and River turned her attention to Shayla.

  “What’s going on out there?”

  Shayla pressed herself up to the bars, straining for a clear view of the street below. “The Keeper’s guards are clearing your train. It looks like he means to arrest your entire crew.”

  “That is acceptable,” said Socrates. “I suspected he would either arrest them, or send them off. His choices in the matter were somewhat limited.”

  “Acceptable?” River said loudly. “Socrates, you can’t let the Keeper do this!”

  “And how would you stop him?”

  “Open this cage and I’ll show you!”

  Socrates shook his head. “No. I will not open your cage. Not yet.” He shook his chains free and stepped to the back of his cell. He complacently settled down on the straw and reclined, resting his head on one arm. “The Keeper is following the path of least resistance. By arresting our crew, he can make sure no one knows what became of us. At the same time, he can breathe new life into the town’s gene pool. From what I have seen, they need it.”

  “Devils!” Kale cursed, slamming his arm into the cage. “Have you gone mad? Do something!”

  “I will not. Nor will you. Rest assured, I will not let the Keeper execute you... any of you. But for now, we must let certain actions take their natural course. I suggest you all get some rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

  Socrates leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Thane stared at the ape in disbelief, and then turned to Kale. “Your friend could rescue us, but instead he naps? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I,” Kale said bitterly. “Socrates, get up! Get us out of here!”

  In the shadowy corner of his cell, Socrates remained still, and for all appearances, seemed to doze off. Halfway across the room, River frowned and wondered if a machine could sleep. It was but one more uncertainty to add to those she’d been harboring about Socrates.

  They continued shouting and taunting the gorilla until their voices went hoarse. By then it was late, and one by one, they settled down on the straw-covered stones to fall into a fitful, uncomfortable sleep.

  Chapter 16

  Rose-colored sunlight slanted through the window and into River’s cell as her eyes fluttered open. The chill of dawn was in the air, and a silence lay upon the town. She crawled to her feet, stretching out the kinks in her back, and saw Socrates hovering near the window. At some point during the night, he had broken out of his cell. River glanced around and saw that her cell door was open. The others were as well.

  “What are you doing?” she said, quietly slipping out of her cage. Socrates had his gaze fixed on something across the street, and he didn’t speak. She went to his side and followed his gaze. Her jaw dropped as she saw the clockwork god sitting atop the front steps of the keep.

  “You’re not the only one who was busy last night,” she said.

  “I suspected the Keeper would want to bring the machine to the street for the sacrifice, and allow the townsfolk to see their god overlooking the proceedings. That is the reason he installed iron tracks in the castle floor. The Keeper could not do this during the day, with the citizens watching him. He waited until they slept, and then quietly pushed it out.”

  “I see steam,” River said. “What is that thing?”

  “It’s called a steamscout. In the early days of the Iron Horse, steamscouts were sent out to map the terrain, to search for damaged tracks, and to lay new ones. They’re like a smaller version of a locomotive. They have extremely powerful engines and, as you can see, arms to facilitate their work.”

  “Steamscouts did all this by themselves?” River said. “I thought you were the only automaton.”

  “You are correct. Steamscouts are not automatons. They have limited abilities. They cannot think or reason. Gyroscopes, weights, and other sensors tell the machine what to do. Because of this they were effective, but far from perfect. Steamscouts often required maintenance, and occasional rescuing.”

  “Where did this one come from?” said River. “The Keeper didn’t find it in Sanctuary did he?”

  “If he had, I would have known. I lived alone in the city for a thousand years. It is more likely that the Keeper’s ancestors came across the steamscout in the wilderness. Perhaps they even found it here, at this castle.”

  “They didn’t build the castle, then?”

  “No. It is clear from the weathering of the stonework and timbers that these people neither built it, nor understand how to maintain it. Their ancestors simply happened upon it and staked their claim. You would be surprised how often this happens as cultures rise and fall throughout the ages.”

  River turned to face him, leaning back against the wall next to the window. “Socrates, what happened to these people? Why do their dead rise from the grave?”

  “Starfall. Their well is tainted with it.”

  River’s eyes widened. “For all these years, they’ve been drinking it?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “But I don’t understand. They seem so… normal.” She waved her hand, indicating the handful of peasants who had appeared in the street below. “When the people of Sanctuary were exposed to Starfall, they became Tal’mar and Kanters. The Starfall changed their bodies so they weren’t human anymore.”

  “Those were heavily concentrated exposures,” Socrates said. “These people ingest no more than a cup of Starfall in their entire lifetimes. It’s not enough to affect physical manifestation, but the cumulative effects are enough to stimulate the motor cortex even after an individual dies.”

  �
��Cortex?”

  “Yes, the part of the human brain that controls movement. You’ve seen the creatures they call Ancients. Think about what you observed: they act without reason or thought. They are motivated by some simple base instinct that attracts them to the living like the flame attracts the moth. They don’t understand it, but some deep animalian part of their mind wishes to be alive again.”

  “That’s horrible,” River said. “How do you know all this?”

  “I’ve seen it before,” Socrates said.

  “Where? In Sanctuary?”

  “Yes. It was very, very long ago.”

  One by one, the other prisoners had awakened and come forward to listen to the conversation. Socrates now had an attentive audience of nine people staring at him. Shayla spoke up:

  “Do you know how to stop these creatures?” she said.

  “I can devise a filtration system for the well,” Socrates said. “It will prevent this from happening in the future. But I think that is not what you mean. The only way to stop the undead corpses is to destroy their brains entirely. It would be best to burn them.”

  “But they won’t go on like that forever,” Shayla said. “Surely, the brains will eventually rot away to nothing.”

  “You would be surprised,” Socrates said. “Starfall is energetic matter. In some cases, the Starfall can protect the section of brain that animates the body. As you have seen, some of these corpses still move even after most of the body has decayed away to nothing. Fire is the only sure way to end their suffering.”

  “But how can we burn them all?” said Kale. “There must be thousands of them.”

  “We have very little choice in the matter,” Socrates said. “There are ways to attract the creatures. We could draw them into a trap and destroy them all at once -or most of them-but such plans mean nothing without the will of the people. You must remember, we’re talking about their Ancients. Misguided as they may be, the townsfolk have worshiped these creatures for centuries. Such traditions do not pass away in one night.”

  “Then they’ll be doomed,” said River. “If they won’t kill the Ancients, sooner or later the Ancients will kill them. It’s already happening. Look at them. They’re starving for fear of going into the forest!”

  “Then I say we don’t give them a choice,” Kale said. “I say we kill the Keeper, and then trap all the Ancients, just as you said. Once they’re gone, the people will understand.”

  “Will they?” Socrates said loudly. “Do you think you can walk into their city and destroy their gods, and the townspeople will be grateful to you? Because that is what you have just described.”

  Kale slumped his shoulders and he sighed. “Maybe not,” he said meekly, “but we have to do something.”

  “He’s right,” River said. “Socrates, even if we could escape and never look back, we can’t just leave these people like this. We must do something for them.”

  Socrates stared at her a moment and then drew his gaze over the others. “Is this how the rest of you feel?”

  “I’d like to help,” Thane said. “But I think our safety is the first priority. We are in real danger here. I won’t risk my life -or Shayla’s-unnecessarily.”

  “Understood,” said Socrates. “I’m relatively certain we can escape quite easily, but we must weigh the consequences of such actions. If we were to escape, we would put the crew of the Iron Horse in danger. Even if we made it safely to the train, we’d still have to fight our way out of the city. Casualties would be almost certain. So you see, there is no safe path before us.”

  “In that case,” said Thane, “I suppose we should take the high road. I wouldn’t want the blood of your crewmen on my conscience.”

  “Nor I,” said Shayla. “I will do as you wish, Socrates.”

  “Very well. We will show the people a better way, but it will be up to them to follow. We can patiently and gently guide them to the truth, but if the citizens of Blackstone still reject it, we must leave them to their fate.”

  “How can we do that?” said River. “Tell us what to do.”

  Socrates turned his gaze to the street, and nodded in the direction of the steamscout-god. “We must expose the Keeper and his machine. And we must do this without intervening in any way.”

  “It’s just a machine,” said Kale. “Should be easy enough to break it. Then the people would understand what it is.”

  “You’re not understanding me,” said Socrates. “It is not enough to simply destroy the machine. It must fail on its own. The citizens must see it fail. We cannot risk touching it.”

  “That’s impossible,” Kale said, frowning.

  “It would seem so. And yet I see no other course.”

  “I have an idea,” said River. Their gazes shifted to her.

  “Well?” said Kale. “What’s your plan?”

  “Thane, your shaving mirror,” she said, grinning. “Give it to me.”

  Thane gave her a perplexed look as pulled the shaving kit out of the hidden compartment in his boot. He opened the leather case and produced the small metal mirror, and handed it to her. River accepted it and then pushed past Kale and the others, stepping up to the window. She held her arm out and tilted the mirror so that it caught the sunlight and reflected it across the street at the steamscout.

  “Caution,” Socrates said. “Setting fire to their god will not solve our problem, River.”

  “I’m not going to set it on fire,” she said. “Just heating it up a little.”

  Socrates stared at her for a moment, and then his face lit up. A deep laugh rumbled out of his chest. “Well done, child. I see that you have been paying attention.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Kale. “What is she doing?”

  “Sophisticated machines have certain sensors that enable their movement,” Socrates explained. “One of those sensors is called a gyroscope. It’s a fantastic creation. Without it, even I would not exist.”

  “Fantastic, but delicate,” River said, grinning.

  “Indeed,” said Socrates. “The slightest bit of heat can bend a wire or metal plate and render it entirely useless. River is redirecting the sunlight in such a way that it will damage the steamscout’s gyroscope.”

  Socrates leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, that’s it,” he said. “Watch the strut riser. A bit lower… there! Now, hold it steady. It shouldn’t take more than a minute or so.”

  The group pressed closer around them, each straining for a better view. One of the crewmen at the rear of the group tried to lean forward to see over Kale’s shoulder. He lost his balance, knocking Kale forward. Kale stumbled into Thane who in turn bumped into River. She gasped as the mirror slipped from her grip. They all watched in horror as the mirror tumbled through the air and landed noisily on the street below. The instant it hit the ground, several peasants in the town square drew their gazes up to the window.

  “There!” someone shouted. “The prisoners are escaping!”

  There was a flurry of cloaks and rattling armor as the watchmen came racing to the tower. Socrates pulled away from the window and fixed the others with a hard stare.

  “What fool did that?” he said angrily. They all shuffled nervously and avoided his gaze. Socrates shook his head. “Never mind. Back into your cages. Move!”

  “But we could escape!” Kale said. “We could hold them off at the door!”

  “For what?” said Socrates. “Have you already forgotten what I told you, fool?”

  Kale turned and dejectedly walked back to his cage, shaking his head all the way, mumbling about not understanding the plan at all. Thane stepped in behind him and closed the door. River and the others followed suit, filing quickly into their cells and then, tragically, locking the doors behind them. A moment later, the commander of the watch and half a dozen fighters burst into the room, swords at the ready. As they realized the captives were all in their cages, they stopped short and stood there, confused.

  “Which one of you tried to escape?” t
he commander said finally.

  No one spoke.

  “The doors are all locked,” said one of the men. “It was a false alarm.”

  The commander eyed the group suspiciously. He turned to his second in command. “Put two watchmen in here for the rest of the day. If they try anything, sound the alarm.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Chapter 17

  “I knew it would be something like this!” a muffled voice shouted in the railcar below Micah’s room. “I knew Socrates would abandon us, or worse!”

  Micah leaned closer to the floor, listening intently. Ever since his escape from the tower and return to the Iron Horse, he’d kept mostly to his personal space in the attic over the library car, especially since the train had arrived in Blackstone. Socrates had warned Micah what might happen to him if the Keeper and his men found him. Micah had no stomach for danger, and he had taken the warning to heart.

  The attic was a large space filled mostly with Micah’s maps and a collection of books he had been reading. The roof was only four feet tall in the middle, just big enough for him to walk around. He had a bookshelf pressed up against one wall and a small desk with a chair where he could read or work on his maps. The only other furnishing was his bed, which was nothing more than a feather mattress with a pillow and blanket. The room was lit by a single oil lantern that hung by a hook from the ceiling.

  “Socrates didn’t abandon us,” another voice said in the room below. “He was arrested! We all saw it.”

  “Fine, whatever. It all adds up the same. What’d he leave us with? The Keeper’s guards beatin’ down the doors, that’s what!”

  “I say we fight ‘em off. We’ve got muskets.”

  “And then what?” said the first man. “Are we gonna fight our way through the whole city, riskin’ our necks just to rescue that machine?”

 

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