The Clockwork God

by Jamie Sedgwick

  “Socrates ain’t just a machine.”

  “Oh, come on! He’s made a’ gears and springs just like a windup toy. You’ve all seen it. He don’t think or feel. Not like us.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Sure I do. What machine can feel, Ned? I’ll tell you what: None! And the fact that he brought us here is proof. What do you think he expected to happen? He wasn’t thinkin’ like a man. He was doin’ what a machine does!”

  “We gotta do somethin’,” a third voice chimed in. “That door ain’t gonna hold long.”

  “Leave it to me,” said the first. “I’ll work it out.”

  “Yeah? How you gonna do that?”

  “I’m gonna make a deal, boys.”

  “I don’t like this,” the third voice said.

  “Well, what’s it gonna be then? You with us or against us? I’ll turn you over to the Keeper right now, if you like.”

  “No, I don’t want that.”

  “Good. Then we’re all in agreement. Just follow along with me and keep yer mouths shut.”

  There was a lot of shuffling and Micah heard the group move toward the front of the train. “It’s all right!” the first man shouted, his voice muffled in the distance. “We’re comin’ out!”

  Micah crept noiselessly across the attic, and cautiously pulled back the corner of the curtain over one of the narrow floor-level windows. He saw the crew disembarking from the front of the train with their hands held high. The guards lined them up along the car, and then the commander sent men inside to search the train. Micah saw the commander and Burk speaking in hushed tones, but couldn’t make out a single word.

  The sound of movement and voices wafted up from below as the guards walked up and down the train cars. They hurriedly finished their search and returned to the commander with no extra prisoners. Micah was sure they hadn’t searched the entire train because it stretched more than half a mile into the distance, and they had performed their search in a matter of minutes. The commander must have observed this as well, because as soon as they had returned, he loudly ordered them back onto the train to finish the job.

  “And this time do it right!” he shouted after them.

  Micah stole a worried glance at the tower, but saw only darkness beyond the window. Kale and River were locked in there, along with Socrates and the others. It occurred to him that perhaps he’d be safer in the tower with them, but Micah didn’t dare move for fear of the guards below.

  He heard them moving slowly through the cars, searching more thoroughly this time. He glanced at the trap door in the floor at the end of the room and caught his breath. He’d never bothered to latch it! Micah turned away from the window and scurried towards the door. As he did, he heard the unmistakable sound of a guard searching the car beneath him. Micah froze, listening intently.

  “This one’s clear,” the guard shouted. “Keep going.”

  “What about that?” said another voice.

  “There’s nothing up there.”

  “Yeah? Fine, you tell the commander then.”

  “Oh, all right. Give me a minute.”

  Micah cringed as he heard the sound of the guard climbing up the ladder. In a panic, he realized he couldn’t possibly make it to the latch in time. Micah glanced around the attic, looking for a place to hide. The mattress wouldn’t work, it was too obvious. The bookshelf was wedged up tight against the wall…

  Micah scurried across the floor and squeezed himself into the narrow space under the desk. He twisted sideways, trying to conceal himself in the shadows, but couldn’t quite seem to fit. He heard the sound of the trap door opening behind him, but couldn’t see it from his position. A ray of light fell across the floor. Micah nearly squealed as the light fell on his exposed right arm. He awkwardly grabbed his arm with his left hand and pulled. With a painful yank, he managed to get his arm out of the light. He grimaced, struggling not to breathe as the guard stuck his head into the attic. Micah could hear the man’s heavy breathing. He could all but feel the man’s eyes on him.

  Micah’s heart pounded in his ears and his lungs burned for a breath of air, but he clenched his jaw and pressed his lips firmly together. He closed his eyes. Maps, he thought. Think of maps! He visualized a mountain in the distance, and a river winding through the foothills. He imagined the quill strokes across the parchment, the arrangement of lines and shadow as the image slowly came to life…

  At last, Micah could hold his breath no more. He released his grip on his arm, allowing his chest to expand, and sucked in a deep gasp. At that exact moment, the door slammed shut and the guard dropped back down to the floor. Micah’s heart hammered in his chest as he realized how much noise he had just made. Micah listened intently, his eyes wild, his chest heaving and falling. Had the guard heard him? In the room below, the guard mumbled something and then went quiet. For the life of him, Micah couldn’t tell if the guard had left, or if the man was simply waiting to spring back into the attic and catch him by surprise.

  Seconds ticked by. At last, Micah heard voices coming from the next car. He sighed as he realized that one of them was the same guard. It had to be, because he knew for a fact that there were only two men on the train. A moan escaped his lips as he awkwardly twisted out of the small space. Spasms shot up and down his back, and Micah lay back on the floor, waiting for the pain to subside, praying to the ghosts of his ancestors and thanking them for his escape.

  When at last he could move, Micah crawled back to the window. The Horse’s crew had been moved, probably inside the keep. Only a few peasants remained on the street. He caught a glint of light in the corner of his eye and glanced back toward the tower where his friends had been imprisoned. He saw River leaning out of the tower window with Thane’s shaving mirror in her hand.

  “What the devils?” he mumbled, watching her move the mirror back and forth. The light flashed in his eyes and then flitted away. He craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse of what she might be aiming at, and realized it was on the other side of the train. Slowly, Micah crawled back across the attic and peeked out the window. There, for the first time, he saw the clockwork god resting atop the stairs. He noticed the beam of light tracking back and forth over the front of the machine, and frowned. For the life of him, Micah couldn’t fathom what River was up to.

  Micah wasn’t familiar with machinery, and therefore knew nothing about gears and gyroscopes. What he could guess was that River was trying to make something happen to the machine. She wanted it to start, or to stop, or possibly just to catch fire. He couldn’t imagine which, but he knew it had to be one of these things, and knowing River, there must be a sound plan behind it. Micah crawled back across the train and peeked back up at her, just in time to see the mirror slip from River’s hand. He saw the peasants cry out, and watched the guards go racing into the tower. He held his breath for the next few moments, fearing something terrible was about to happen. River disappeared from the window and everything went quiet.

  At last, the guards filed back out of the tower. They locked the door and disappeared into the keep. Up above, everything in the window was dark and quiet. Apparently, his companions were now locked back in their cages. Micah drew his gaze back to the street and saw the tiny silver mirror lying there, glinting in the morning sunlight.

  “I see how it is now,” he grumbled, casting a glance back at the darkened tower window. “I’ve got to save the lot of you.”

  Chapter 18

  Commander Toolume watched from the keep as his guards cleared the train and brought the prisoners into the main hall. A few steps back, the Keeper paced back and forth in front of his desk, wringing his hands, pausing now and then to sip from a goblet of wine.

  “They’re all inside,” the Commander said. “What do you want me to do?”

  The Keeper paused to finish off his wine. He gulped it down and then stared into the empty goblet. “I should have you kill them all,” he said. “We’d be better off getting rid of them.”

&nbs
p; “We can’t do that,” the commander said.

  “Oh? Perhaps you’ve forgotten who’s running this town.”

  The commander clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “We both know very well that you’re in charge. The problem is that soon there won’t be a town left to run. We are dying, cousin. We need new blood. These strangers… they make not be like us, but they will learn. Once they see their leader destroyed and the power of our god, they will do whatever we say.”

  “If only it were that easy,” the Keeper said. “The problem is that these men have seen the world. They know what’s out there, and they understand things... If we let them in, it will only be a matter of time before they start telling stories and convincing the others to leave. Then what will we do?”

  The commander leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. “As you say, we could kill them. If we do that, we’ll have to find a way to explain it to your subjects. The townsfolk will overlook the sacrifice. That’s reasonable. But shedding innocent blood? They may not stand for that.”

  The Keeper cleared his throat as he poured another glass. “It seems you’ve put a great deal of thought into this matter. What do you suggest then, cousin?”

  “You already know what I think. We should integrate them into the town. Marry them off to some of the widows. God knows we have dozens of them.”

  The Keeper settled into his desk and leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. He sighed deeply and then leaned back, staring at his companion.

  “All right, then. We’ll be hospitable, at least for now. Get them settled. Let them know how it is. If this fails, I will hold you personally accountable.”

  If it fails, it won’t matter, the commander thought. He left the room and hurried downstairs. In the main hall of the keep, he located the crew of the Iron Horse. A dozen guards armed with spears and swords had lined them up against the back wall. He walked the line in front of them, eyeing them up and down, searching his mind for the words he needed. Was it possible to tell a man he was a captive and could never leave, and yet make it sound appealing?

  Focus on the possibilities, he thought. Offer them ale, gold, sex… whatever a man might want. Just offer it, even if we don’t have it… As he looked them over, one of the men spoke up. He was a muscular, bearded man with a dangerous glint in his eyes:

  “What’re you gonna do with us?” Burk demanded.

  The commander looked him over. “Who are you?”

  Burk stepped forward, flexing his massive muscles. “I’m the one you’re talking to.”

  A slight smile turned up the corners of the commander’s mouth. “You’re the leader, then?”

  “I am now. My name is Burk.”

  The commander turned to the guards. “Take the crew to the old Inn and give them rooms. They are not to leave until I say so.” He turned his attention back to Burk and smiled. “All right then, let’s you and I take a walk…”

  Burk followed the commander out of the keep and down the main street. He observed the townsfolk going about their labors all around him. The women were all either old or malnourished. There weren’t many men; none who could put up a fight anyway. Those that could had no doubt been recruited into the guard. At last, the commander spoke:

  “What are you, a carpenter? A smith, perhaps?”

  Burk nodded at that.

  “I see. And how did you come to be the leader of this crew?”

  “You might say there was an opening,” Burk said with a toothy grin. “Seems our old leader got himself in a pickle.”

  “Indeed. And you didn’t waste a second, did you? You strike me as a man of opportunity, Burk. You could have wasted your energy trying to rally a defense, trying to save your leader. Instead you chose to betray him.” He paused in the middle of the street and they stood there facing one another.

  “You tryin’ to say somethin’?”

  “Yes. I’m saying that I have use for a man of your skills.”

  “Ah, that’s what it is then. Lookin’ for some opportunity yerself, ain’t ya? Ya got a problem with the Keeper?”

  The commander’s smile vanished. “This conversation is between the two of us. If any word of this ever comes to light, I’ll have you skinned alive and hang you over the wall until the Ancients rip you apart, piece by piece. Do you understand?”

  “I think I do.”

  “Good. Tell your men to make themselves comfortable. They may choose women and homes, but they must stay inside the wall. As long as they abide by our rules, they will be well cared for. They will have food, drink, and so on.”

  “That’s mighty generous of you, Commander. And what is it you expect from us, in return?”

  “When the time comes, I will call on you. It’s time for a change of leadership in this town, and it’s coming soon. Will you be ready?”

  “I’m always ready,” Burk said.

  The commander turned away with a grim smile on his face. That one’s dangerous, he thought. I’ll have to kill him soon.

  Chapter 19

  Socrates had made it clear that none of the group should attempt to escape. Not yet, anyway. He was determined to see the plan through to the end. Unfortunately, the details of the plan were still elusive and River’s nerves were growing more frayed by the minute. Through hand signs and whispers, she tried to communicate to Socrates that she wasn’t sure if she’d succeeded in damaging the steamscout. River had managed to hit the gyroscope with sunlight reflected on Thane’s shaving mirror, but not for very long, and she had no way to be sure if that had been enough. If forced to guess, she’d have said it wasn’t. She tried to explain this to Socrates, but he just stared at her, his gold-flecked deep brown simian eyes glaring back at her under those heavy brows.

  River was starting to wonder if Burk’s arguments about the mechanical gorilla were correct. Maybe Socrates really couldn’t feel. Maybe he really didn’t understand what it meant to be human. If that was true, then where did that leave the crew? If Socrates was incapable of feeling something as simple and primal as fear, then how could he truly understand the danger they were in? And how could he act appropriately?

  The rest of the afternoon passed in miserable, agonizing silence. Any attempt at conversation made by River and her companions, the guards quickly silenced with threats of violence, or worse. This didn’t frighten River because she knew she had nothing to fear from two guards who could be easily overwhelmed. It was the waiting -and worrying-that she couldn’t stand.

  Later, as the shadows were lengthening across the stone floor and the townsfolk began gathering in the street below the tower to make preparations for the execution, a clicking noise by the window caught River’s attention. She was half-asleep, having long since given up on her attempts to communicate with Socrates. She was sitting in the corner of her cage with her back up against he bars, her eyes closed. Half-remembered images of the mother she barely knew were fleeting through her mind. The sound snapped River out of her daydreams and she sat upright, scanning the room. She heard the noise again and fixed her gaze on the window. Micah’s face appeared briefly, and then disappeared. River’s eyes widened. She glanced at the guards and realized they had settled down on chairs by the door. Their eyes were closed, but she couldn’t tell if they were asleep or just resting. Quietly, she pushed to her feet and went to the front of her cage.

  Micah appeared again. He nervously glanced around the room and then smiled as he met her gaze. River shook her head and mouthed the words: What are you doing! Micah fumbled in his pocket for a moment and then produced the mirror. He had retrieved it from the street below. He held it up so she could see it, and River’s face lit up. She glanced at the guards and then at Socrates, wondering if she could attract the ape’s attention without waking their captors.

  Socrates had turned to face the wall after ignoring her for the larger part of the day. Now, with his back bent to her, she couldn’t even tell if the creature was awake. River wasn’t even sure if the gorilla needed t
o sleep. He was a machine after all, but Socrates also had so many human traits. She’d seen him eat and drink, read books, and even cook. Was Socrates human enough that he required sleep? River made a mental note to ask him later, if they survived.

  Cautiously, she bent low and rapped her knuckled on the stone floor. Socrates didn’t stir, but one of the guards did. He twisted in his chair, and shuffled his feet. River grimaced as she watched him. The guard sighed. He readjusted himself slightly, and then went right back to sleep. River pressed her face close to the bars and very quietly whispered in Socrates’ direction:

  “Psst!”

  Socrates didn’t move.

  River threw her gaze back to Micah. She shrugged, indicating that she didn’t know what to do. Micah rolled his eyes and sagged his shoulders. He placed the mirror gently on the windowsill and started to climb through. River winced as Micah pushed up onto his belly and swung his legs over. The fabric of his breeches grazed the mirror ever so slightly, and it jumped sideways. River’s stomach lurched. She waved her arms, trying to get the small man’s attention, but he was oblivious.

  With a considerable amount of rustling, Micah got himself turned around and then lowered himself to the floor. On the way down, his vest caught on the windowsill and he very nearly got himself stuck. He heaved himself back far enough to loosen the fabric, and at last his boots touched the floor. Surprisingly, the mirror still rested on the edge of the windowsill. River took a deep breath and willed her pounding heart to slow down. Micah snatched up the mirror and hurried over to her cage.

  “Thought you might need this,” he whispered with a wink.

  River accepted it gratefully. “I do, but…” she gestured at the lock on her cage. She glanced out the window and saw the sunlight quickly waning. Now that she had the mirror, River might actually be able to finish the task of disabling the steamscout. Unfortunately, she only had minutes to do it, and she had no way to open the lock. She considered trying to explain their plan and the workings of the steamscout to Micah, but quickly banished the idea. Micah was a kind and gentle man, but utterly useless when it came to things mechanical.