“Good afternoon, miss. Was your trip a success?” he asked.
“No. We wrecked half the town and failed to get the metals back.”
“So an otherwise normal trip.”
“Yes,” said Cassidy as she crossed into her office, removing her coat as she went. On a small couch near one of the wall shelves was a disheveled man wearing visibly dirty clothing. “I'm glad to see that Quentin's back,” Cassidy said, gesturing toward the man. “I was worried he was dead.”
“Oh we would be so lucky,” responded Amos in a mock wistful tone. “But no, he arrived late last night and made an awful racket attempting to fix himself a late night meal. Lord knows where he had been, but based on the smell, I would say that he was visiting a pig farm.”
Cassidy slumped into her chair, her face revealing the pain she was in.
Amos tilted his head, revealing a glint of concern. “I'm sorry that your trip was not a success.”
Cassidy sighed. “It's my fault. I was stupid. I could have simply taken my metal and gone. I had it. I goddamned had it. But no. I had to go and... I don't know! I don't even know why I did what I did. But now I'm paying for it. I don't have shit. I don't have shit.”
“Not at all. You have exactly what you had before you went, which is more than most. A new opportunity will arise.”
Cassidy looked up at Amos through tired, sad eyes. She nodded slowly. “Thank you,” she said.
“I shall inform miss Bates that you have returned. I'm sure she will want to prepare you a meal. Would you like me to request cake and candy for dinner?”
Cassidy rolled a pen side to side on her desk before inhaling deeply while rubbing her face with her hands. “No... no,” she replied with a faint smile. “I'm sure that she will make me something... very tasty.” Cassidy's eyes fell to her desk. “Thank you, Amos.”
Amos's face just barely expressed a sense of confusion as he looked at Cassidy. “You're welcome, miss.” With that, Amos turned and walked out of the office.
Quentin snorted and lurched up slightly. “Huh! Ung. Cassidy! You look like shit!”
“And so do you,” Cassidy replied.
Quentin smiled. “Hell yes I do. What... what's going on?” he grunt-mumbled.
“Nothing,” Cassidy said. “Go back to sleep.” Quentin's head then flopped back onto the couch.
---
The morning sun glowed brightly over all of San Francisco. It cast golden blankets over the docks where fishermen scurried about with the day's catch. The wind licked the water, turning the bay into a sheet of turning, coruscating diamonds. The warm caress fell upon Amos, standing perfectly upright with his hands clasped behind his back, in his large brimmed hat, who was overseeing the gardening crew outside of the St. Claire mansion. It was inching toward Quentin, who was still asleep on the library couch. And in Cassidy's small attic room, the piercing beams shining through the large, intricately-detailed rose window reflected off the red wood walls, turning it all into a glowing furnace of light.
Cassidy once again stood naked in front of her mirror. Her body covered in scratches and bruises, her right shoulder covered in blue and purple. She lifted up her right arm and put her hand behind her head as she gently touched a dark bruise near her armpit, wincing as she did so. She slowly let her arm down as she turned to the bed, picking up a shirt. She grimaced and grunted in pain as she ever-so-slowly threaded her arms into the sleeves. After finally succeeding, she let her arms down with a relieved sigh and looked in the mirror again. “This is going to take awhile,” she said quietly to herself.
---
Cassidy came slowly walking down the grand staircase, taking each step in a stiff motion before pausing, then moving to the next step. As she neared the bottom, Margie walked by with a large pot.
“Good morning, Cassidy dear. How are you feeling?” Margie asked cheerfully.
“Stiff,” said Cassidy, as she made it down to the bottom.
Margie squinted as she looked at Cassidy and tilted her head slightly to the side. “What's that?” she asked, leaning in toward Cassidy's neck. “Is that... a bruise?” Margie put her pot on the floor and pushed Cassidy's collar to the side, revealing a large, black and blue mark running from the bottom of her neck down beneath the shirt. “Good lord, Cassidy. Did a building fall on you?”
“Not far from the mark. I'll give you the details over breakfast. Because it hurts to stand.”
“Oh for... Cassidy,” Margie said with an apprehensive nag, caressing her face. “C'mon. Let's get some chicken and eggs into you. I'm sure you need it.” Cassidy smiled in response. Margie picked up her pot and they slowly made their way into the kitchen.
---
Cassidy slowly shuffled toward her office from the kitchen when a knock came at the door. She paused to wait as Amos went over to answer. “Good Afternoon, Mr. Reilly,” said Amos, as Joseph walked into the foyer.
“Cassidy!” Joseph yelled after he noticed Cassidy standing by her office door. “Jacob told me what happened! Oh, and hi, Amos, thank you.” Joseph hurried over to Cassidy, who was standing stiffly, with her shoulders slightly hunched. “Good god, you look like shit.”
“Thanks,” Cassidy replied flatly.
They talked as they walked into Cassidy's office. “Where's the hand?” asked Joseph.
“Over on my desk,” replied Cassidy, pointing slightly.
“Has it stopped moving?”
“Yes. It did so before I got it home. It's last movement was in the carriage. Creepy fucking thing.” Joseph walked slightly ahead of Cassidy to look at the hand, sitting on top of the fragment of leather coat sleeve. A small amount of the mystery fluid had leaked onto the desktop. Joseph leaned down to look at it, holding both hands behind his back.
“In all creation... what is it made from?” he asked, turning his head to the side to look at Cassidy.
“No clue. I looked at the broken end best I could with my tools and was able to make out some invisibly small gearing. Small strings and tubes seemed to run every which way. I am not dumb, and I could not make heads nor tails of this thing. I saw a giant flying machine last night, but to me, this is more impressive. I don't know whether it was a man with a mechanical arm, or a mechanical man, but it doesn't matter. I got into a fist fight with a goddamned machine.”
Jacob stood up straight and placed his hands in his pants pockets, his thumbs sticking out. “It's one hell of a lead, I think.”
“Maybe,” replied Cassidy glumly as she shuffled past Joseph. “I'm going to bring it over to George and Anna to look at it, but it's so complex that by the time any leads come out of it,” Cassidy spoke as she eased down into her chair, “I have a feeling that our prey will be long gone.”
“Also, you don't look like you're in any condition to do much moving about.” Joseph spoke as he walked over and sat in one of the two guest chairs on the opposite side of Cassidy's desk.
Cassidy leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes. “I don't remember things hurting this much when I was younger.”
“Oh, don't give me that,” replied Joseph in a dismissive and annoyed tone. “Your injuries have nothing to do with your age, they have to do with your recklessness. Jumping out of a building?! Firing a cannon meant to be mounted to a carriage?” Joseph sighed as he looked out the window. He looked back and pointed at Cassidy. “You're lucky that William is out of town. He'd give you such an earful.”
“Oh, I know,” replied Cassidy, her eyes still closed. “That is why he will never find out about this.” Joseph slumped down in his chair a bit, looking at Cassidy. “And for the record, I know for a fact that if I had done this in the past, it wouldn't have hurt as much.”
“Oh I know it wouldn't have. You're no longer twenty-five, after all.” Joseph glanced down at his hand to pick at his thumbnail. “And I'm no longer forty.”
“You're strong as an ox,” Cassidy said, opening her eyes slightly to look at him.
“Yes, but I was a stronger ox in the past.�
�
Cassidy closed her eyes again before breathing in deeply, holding it, then exhaling. “Oh for god's sake,” she said as she started to move out of her chair. “I'll be damned if I let us just sit here and complain about how old we've gotten. Let's take this thing over to George and Anna. If anyone is going to be helpful, it's them.” After getting out of the chair and standing there for a moment, she looked at Joseph. “You may have to carry me.”
“Oh no. You can carry yourself. Remember, I'm old.” Cassidy grunted in response.
---
The aged wooden door was surrounded by junk and boxes, blocking the two windows on either side of the door and letting in only bright flecks of sunlight. The door handle turned and an impact shook the door, but it didn't open. Another impact. And another. “Goddamn it!” Cassidy said on the other side of the door. “You open it.” The door handle turned again and a powerful impact caused the door to burst open and in stumbled Joseph.
Joseph steadied himself and straightened his jacket before bowing and gesturing cordially with his hand. “My lady,” he said.
“Why thank you,” Cassidy responded.
A young man, pale, boyish, with brownish-blonde hair and the faintest hint of stubble, wearing goggles and a thick leather apron came walking around the corner at the end of the hallway. “Cassidy! Hi!” he said with a smile.
“Hi George, I come bearing gifts,” Cassidy said.
“Oh, wonderful,” he responded. As Cassidy walked stiffly down the hall, George cocked his head slightly to the side, looking confused and inquisitive. “Are you alright?”
“Oh, I'm fine. I just got into a fist-fight with a super-human.”
“Oh, of course. Why should I have even had to ask?” responded George sarcastically.
“Where's Anna?” asked Cassidy as she passed George.
“Way in the back. She's working on a machine to automatically cobble shoes.”
“Interesting... Well get her out here. I want her views on this as well.”
“One moment, master,” George said as he gestured animatedly with his arms in the direction he started walking. Cassidy walked out into the main warehouse area. The ceiling was about twenty-five feet high, with wooden dividers, stacks of crates, boxes, and junk creating pathways and impromptu rooms. Large electrical lights shined down from the ceiling and onto a cluttered work table. Cassidy shuffled over to the table.
Cassidy grunted in disapproval. “What a mess.” She turned to Joseph whose gaze was meandering all over the area, and motioned with her hand for him to give her something. He continued looking around before glancing back at Cassidy. His facial expression popped slightly when he became aware of her request.
“Oh. Yes,” he said as he raised a leather bag he had been carrying and handed it to her. “This place gets messier and messier every time I visit. Do they ever throw anything away?”
“No. I'm planning on just burning the place down when they're not looking.”
At this time, a young blonde woman, delicate and almost ethereal, wearing oil-covered denim and corduroy walked in. “Cassidy!” she said with a giant, beaming smile.
Cassidy turned to face her. “Hello Anna. How are you?” Cassidy said with a smile and motherly tone.
Anna walked over to Cassidy and leaned her head on Cassidy's shoulder, her arms flat at her side. “I'm fine, she said.” Cassidy wrapped her arms warmly around the young woman and caressed her hair.
“It's so good to see you. I'm sorry I haven't been around recently.”
“It's alright. I've made great progress on my two projects. I'm the happiest I've been in months.” George came walking back in, having just finished removing his heavy leather apron. He tossed it onto a pile of junk.
“I'm glad to see you two are keeping your play room nice and clean,” Cassidy said.
“What? This is actually really good,” George said, waving his hand in a small circle, gesturing to the entire space. “It was much worse a week ago.” He spoke as he walked behind his work table and began shoving stuff to the side. “We made a big effort to tidy up a couple of days ago after we found ourselves unable to leave through the door. Thankfully, you were off doing... whatever it is you do, so you never saw it. So what have you brought us that you want us to see?”
Anna lifted her head up and looked up at Cassidy. “You brought us something?” she asked.
“Yes,” Cassidy said as Anna stepped back slightly, watching Cassidy's motions attentively. She reached down into the leather bag and pulled out the hand, wrapped in a towel. She placed it on the table and with two motions, unwrapped the arm. Anna and George both moved closer to the object. “I used a gun with an explosive round to blow that off a man's arm, or, blow off his arm... which is... that?... whatever. And really, I don't even know if he was actually a man. He could have been a machine. All I know is that he looked like a man, was ungodly strong, fast, and resilient. And when I shot his goddamn forearm off, he didn't even wince.”
“Well, I doubt it was a machine,” said George. “I'm assuming that you interacted with him in such a way to indicate intelligence?”
“He punched me a bunch of times. And then I kicked him through a window.”
“So, a normal relationship for you?”
Cassidy stared at him blankly for a moment. “... Yes,” she said.
“I'd imagine it was a man with mechanical parts. I've seen tricks like that before, stage magicians and the like. People got inventive after the war, as well. But how was he controlling them? That's the question.” George asked, more or less to himself.
“Did he look strange?” asked Anna.
“No. He just looked like a guy in a mask,” replied Cassidy
“Maybe directly muscular connection,” said Anna. “If they could find a way to stop the tissue from dying.”
“That's a real leap,” George said. “Do you have any more details?” he asked to Cassidy.
“Um,” Cassidy thought for a moment. “No. He was just wearing nice leather and suede clothes. Shiny boots. He was wearing a weird mask with circular goggles and a lot of metal on the front.” Cassidy gestured by moving her open hand up and down over her face.
“That's it?” asked George.
“I wasn't terribly interested in committing his visage and countenance to memory. I was basically trying to kill him.”
“When you say he was strong? How do you mean?” asked Anna.
“I mean strong. Strong strong. He picked up a man about as big as you, George, with one hand and flung him a good ten feet. He then punched me so hard I stopped breathing. This son of a bitch was like fighting a bull.”
“Why the hell did you engage him?” asked George.
“I wasn't expecting him to be a death machine, George. I assumed he was merely some guy in a freaky get-up.”
“How did he get away?” asked Anna.
“Well... alright, first, full story. Jacob and I went down to Monterrey because someone down there was trying to sell our prototype alloys from the train robbery. We found him, but before we could get him back here, that human bull arrived in a giant flying machine, floating in the air, roaring wind, ripped an enormous goddamn hole in the building with a big metal hand, and carried him off into the night. That's when I did something supremely stupid. I had the goddamned metals in my hands. I had them. But I used them as bait to lure that guy back. That's where he kind of kicked the shit out of me. When he got outside, Jacob and I had our guns on him when he sent up a flare which apparently signaled his airship to come get him. It came roaring out of the woods by the road, smashed into a building and scooped the bastard up.”
George and Anna stared at Cassidy, wide-eyed.
“Um... ok,” said George. “First, I have questions about everything you just said.”
“Yeah,” added Anna. “An airship?!”
“Yeah,” said Cassidy. “A bit, metal, flying, airship.”
“What did it look like?” asked George.
“Uhh, Wi
de, and kind of flat,” Cassidy replied, “with four fans on the corners blowing air. If I was to take a guess, I'd say, umm, fifty feet square.”
“Fifty feet,” George said quietly. “Fifty feet of metal. My god. It must have weighed, what... ten, fifteen tons. Maybe twenty.”
“Or more,” said Anna. “It could have been made partially out of wood. Save weight.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Good point,” replied George. “And you're sure that it was flying? It wasn't attached to a cable or something?” he asked.
“Absolutely sure. That bastard came roaring out of the darkness and bobbed around in the air before bumping into a building as it rescued our mechanical friend. It was flying.”
“What's so interesting about that?” asked Joseph.
“Uhh, basically? Power. We have lots of principles by which we could fly, but all of them require more power than we can create. I'm just trying to think about what the hell they could have used to power something that big.”
“A steam engine?” chimed in Joseph.
“No,” said George. “They weigh the better part of a hundred and fifty tons. You'd need ten times the energy they can create to lift one off the ground. They're producing a massive amount of thrust out of something small.”
Cassidy continued to look at George for a moment, who was still lost in thought. “Well... do you have any ideas?” she asked.
George's eyes darted around for a moment before he looked at Cassidy. “Uhh, no. Not really.”
“Then,” Cassidy said as she pointed to the hand.
“Oh right! Yes. The matter at hand, ha haaaa,” George said, doing finger guns at Cassidy.
Cassidy's expression didn't change. “Hilarious.”
By this point, Anna had already started inspecting the hand, oblivious to her brothers breathy contemplation. She articulated the fingers up and down and tapped her finger on the leather glove, revealing plate metal underneath. George picked up the hand, yanking it out from Anna's view, annoying her, and began to inspect it. Anna stepped over to him and began looking over his shoulder. She then began pawing at it, almost trying to get it away from George. “Do you mind?” George said. “I will let you look at in a moment.” Anna looked at him and stepped back a bit. “Wow. This is a lot more complex than I was expecting.” George said as he started looking around his work room. “Where... did I put that glass.” He put the hand down, upon which time Anna immediately picked it up.
Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III Page 12
