by E. M. Havens
“I…” Her shoulders slouched in that certain way, and Cole knew she was about to tell all. “I always know.” Looking through her lashes to judge his reaction, she continued. “Even when I was a child, I knew…how things worked, why they didn’t work, and how to make them work.” She met his gaze full on, with a hint of a smile. “Or how to make them stop working in this case.” Simultaneous humorous snorts punctured the tense atmosphere, their respective fears deflated.
“So, you can look at any machine and know instinctively how it’s made or what it can do?”
She nodded, and flashed him a humble grin. “Almost.” Her fingers contemplatively caressed her brooch.
“Sprocket Activate.”
Cole jumped to his feet, instantly on guard, the shiny creature unfolding, and skittering to Samantha’s outstretched palm.
“He won’t hurt you,” she giggled, a bolt of pleasure struck his heart. He loved how she could do that to him.
In two strides, Sam crossed the room, and perched on the edge of the bed. Sprocket scampered from her palm, and investigated the various stitching in the quilted fabric of the coverlet.
“You’re sure?” Cole lowered himself nervously to the bed. Sam nodded, beaming as a mother over her child.
“Jasper made him. Sprocket and a few of his other inventions are the only things I haven’t been able to understand.” She stroked the gold creature as it scuttled about. From this angle it looked more like a ladybug, wings half open. Cole suppressed a shiver as the razor sharp claws picked at a stray bit of string. Even in the twilight, he had seen the damage those talons did to the Fate soldier.
“I’ve thought of taking him apart.” Sprocket gently wrapped a talon around her wiggling finger. “But I don’t want to risk not being able to put him back together.” Was it his imagination, or did the creature just whirr apprehensively? Even the small gold strips above the diamond like eyes were raised in mock concern.
“What do you know about him?” Cole chanced contact with Sprocket, and traced a finger along one gold wing. Cold metal, just as he expected.
“I know that Sprocket was the creation of a machine.”
“What? I thought you said Jasper made him.”
“Well…” She traced a circle on the bed, which Sprocket followed as a dog on a leash. “It’s complicated. Jasper made a Sprocket-like machine about the size of a man. The machine’s sole purpose was to build another machine. That machine was roughly the size of a dog. Its purpose was to build Sprocket.” The questioning tilt of her brow begged him to believe her. He nodded for her to continue, not knowing if he did.
“I know that Sprocket reacts to frequencies in my voice, and emitted by my emotional state. To Jasper’s too.”
“You lost me.”
“Imagine a guitar or piano string. When struck it vibrates at a certain tone. Sprocket, when he hears a certain tone, performs certain tasks in response. I honestly don’t know much more than that. Only his power source has to do with the two crystals that look like eyes.”
“Amazing.” Cole grasped one of the four spindly legs Sprocket skittered around on. The creature gently tugged at the restraint, but made no attempt at retaliation. It clicked and chattered, sounding almost annoyed with him.
“Jasper gave him to me right before he – disappeared.” Sam held out her palm, which Sprocket limped onto, dragging Cole’s fingers with him. She lifted him to eye level for Cole to examine. He couldn’t help but study the laugh lines forming around her eyes instead. “He’s been my only friend, the only one I could talk to. I had to leave him when I went to the finishing school. I was afraid he would be discovered.” She caressed the creature between its crystal eyes, and it emitted what could have been a contented whir. “He was in my things when they arrived at the castle.”
Darkness seeped back into her voice, and the laugh lines faded. She was slipping away again. Cole released the suddenly droopy metal wing he’d been inspecting, and cautiously slid to his wife’s side. She didn’t flinch, so he wrapped an arm around her.
“What else can this little guy do?” he asked, giving her what he hoped was an encouraging squeeze.
“Sprocket Fetch.” She twisted off her wedding band and tossed it to the center of the room. Cole didn’t have time to be offended as Sprocket hopped from her palm to the floor. The creature scampered straight to the fallen ring, which it grasped in tiny claws. He scurried up Sam’s leg to her arm, then placed the ring in her palm. The metallic pet wiggled its back end, feigning the wag of a tail.
“Really?” Cole chuckled.
“Yes, really.” She looked up at him, and leaned into his embrace, then laid her head on his shoulder. For a moment they sat quiet and comfortable, Sprocket begging for another command in Sam’s hand. Cole wondered what she would let him get away with, and then chastised himself. The thought, however, set things in motion he had no control over. Thankfully, a knock on the door offered some relief.
“Sprocket Home.” Sam commanded. The gold creature jumped to her heart, and folded itself up.
“I’ll get it,” he offered, when Sprocket was secured. The few strides between the bed and the door gave Cole the opportunity to untuck his shirt and rearrange the evidence of his wayward thoughts. He answered the door and took the bowls of stew, loaf of rustic bread, and extra blankets the inn keeper offered.
After they ate, Cole offered Sam the extra underclothes he had in his pack. He relished the rosy response on her cheeks as she accepted the saddle bag and its contents. Giving her all the privacy available to change and freshen up at the wash stand, Cole stood facing the corner like a naughty child. Penance for his errant thoughts, possibly. The snap of covers being drawn and the squeak of the bed frame told Cole one of his greatest desires would not be fulfilled this evening, sleeping in a real bed. It also dashed all hope of his second greatest desire at the moment.
“Okay,” Sam called from under the blankets.
Cole took his turn, shucking his boots and wearily discarding items of clothing until he stood in his brown wool undershorts. He took a few moments at the washstand too, treating a few minor cuts from his earlier battle. He always carried a few essential remedies in his pack, and was thankful for the garlic and yarrow salve.
He laid out the extra blankets beside the bed and turned to blow out the lamp. Sam was staring at him. She didn’t shy away as he turned, and didn’t seem to notice he now watched her. Her eyes, those intense green eyes, followed every curve of muscle, traced every joint, every scar; entranced. She wasn’t ogling him. She tilted her head curiously, with scientific precision, as her gaze traveled upward. Minutes passed, and with inhuman strength of will, Cole kept his body from reacting to her inspection. With shallow breaths, he thought instead of finance meetings and past confrontations with his father, feeling it was important not to break the trance.
Her scrutiny reached his face, and their eyes locked. The shade of red that painted her face rivaled Mars on a clear night.
“Sorry,” she whispered, and blew out the light. He heard the covers rustle as she buried her head. Standing in the darkness, he contemplated Sam’s actions. He realized it was possible for her to have never seen a bare chested man before. She may have seen drawings in biology books, but never in the flesh. He hoped she liked what she saw, and smirked in the darkness.
Lowering himself to the pallet of blankets on the floor, he wished again he could sleep in a bed. Not just because he hadn’t for weeks but he wasn’t used to this much riding or fighting. He searched for a comfortable spot, hands folded behind his head. Still, it was a good thing he wasn’t sharing her bed. He couldn’t even remember the last romp or release he’d had. Ironic for a married man. She probably needed more time to heal anyway. Of course she could be perfectly fine. The damage wasn’t that bad, and a few weeks had been an overestimate.
“Cole.”
He almost missed the whisper in his contemplations. It was so timid.
“Yes,” he whispered back. Silence followed, and he
feared he imagined the voice.
“Do you…” Sam’s indecision was palpable. Cole knew her now. He sensed this moment of struggle to break a chain of conformity. Closing his eyes to the dark room he silently encouraged her. The seconds ticked by and he also knew when the battle was lost.
The lure of a soft mattress and a softer woman were enticing and he finished her thought before he could stop the words.
“Sam?”
“Yes.”
“Can I sleep next to you?”
Silence.
“Sam?” He shouldn’t have asked. He pushed too far and she…
“Yes.”
What was she thinking? Images of the Verification flashed before her as the mattress sagged with Cole’s weight. Phantom pain burned between her thighs. Sam’s body convulsed with uncontrollable shaking.
“Sam? Sam, it’s okay. I’m not….” The anguish in his voice broke her heart, the heart that trusted him. It was her damned mind and body that betrayed her.
Suddenly she was surrounded by warmth. His bare chest was against her back; his hand on her stomach held her there. She suppressed a fear driven moan, and the shakes redoubled their assault.
“This is it, okay?” His lips moved against the top of her head, followed by a gentle kiss. “This is it, nothing more.” His other arm slipped beneath her head. She was trapped. Sam braced for the pain and a muffled cry escaped through a spasm of shivers.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Even in the darkness his tears were evident, as they trickled into his voice
Moments passed, and when all Sam felt was heat, the shaking began to subside. Concentrating on the warmth, new sensations emerged. She could feel Cole’s heartbeat at her back. It was strong, steady, and intensified as each breath pressed his chest harder into her. She found her erratic breathing syncing with his. Little hairs tickled with each warm exhale at her ear. The curve of his muscled arm followed her hip and his strong hand held her tight against him.
Sam found it wasn’t just warmth that soaked into her body from his touch, strength seeped in, too. She used it and relaxed into him, all shakes gone. His lips brushed the top of her head again. All Sam could think of was getting closer to Cole and him holding her tighter. It couldn’t be possible without him crushing her, but she needed it like air. Fighting every expectation ingrained in her, she reached out and slipped both her hands into each of his. His breath caught as she entwined their fingers. She pulled his arms tighter around her, closer. He shifted, and she found herself in his protective cocoon.
She shouldn’t have done that. Only a husband should initiate such contact. Those thoughts were shattered under Cole’s embrace, and she pulled him closer. A bed. A man. She thought these things could only bring her pain and violation, but this felt right. This felt good. She drew him in, closer still.
****
Cole shifted restlessly in his saddle as he pulled Octavious out of a trot once again. The horse was ready to race Freedom and he was completely oblivious of his rider’s discomfort. Cole tried to keep his eyes on the horizon, but Sprocket’s playful chirping and skittering on Sam’s shoulders kept drawing his attention back to her. She rode next to him, also oblivious of the discomfort she caused. Her body had definitely blossomed over the past few weeks, and between the antics of the horses and Sprocket, he couldn’t help but notice every bounce and jounce of her new curves. God she was beautiful. And that smile. She hadn’t stopped smiling all day.
Last night changed everything. He held her, all night, and it was surprisingly more intimate than anything he had ever experienced. If not for the Fate lying dead in the meadow, he would have stayed in bed with her all day, wrapped around her, pulling her soft body tight enough to his to make them one. It made him feel strong, wanted, but his body ached for more, and she wasn’t ready yet.
In a way he was glad his duty shoved him out of bed. Duty. Since when did he care about duty? Since he had something worth protecting, that’s when.
A sudden thump accompanied by pinpricks on his thigh, startled Cole from his ruminations.
“Clinker!” His startled cry was followed by Sam’s mellifluous giggles. Sprocket had jumped from her onto him and now rubbed its golden body along Cole’s stomach like an affectionate cat. He held his arms like a bird in flight trying not to disturb the creature’s attentions. He still wasn’t completely comfortable with the thing.
“I think he likes you.”
“I think you like me.” he pertly replied, remembering what Sam said about Sprocket’s reaction to her moods. The laughing left, but her smile stayed beneath her rosy cheeks.
“Sprocket Home,” she commanded cheerfully. With a discontented whir, Sprocket hopped back to Samantha and settled over her heart.
The smell of campfire and sounds of comradery wafted on the summer breeze as they broke from the thicket into the familiar meadow.
“Prince Cole.” The Captain saluted, followed by similar salutations from his small group of men. Cole nodded in acknowledgement, putting the Arboreal soldiers at ease as he dismounted. He clasped hands with the captain hoping there wasn’t a protocol for this, and if there was, that he wasn’t botching it too much.
“Report, Captain…?” Cole cringed inwardly. He hated sounding like such a piston pumper, not knowing the man’s name. He was the typical soldier, broad shoulders, slightly taller than Cole, crisp red uniform coat and short, neat brown hair.
“Captain Jensen, Sir,” he filled in the gap for Cole. “The Garrison received word via transagram this morning. General Crom is dispatching a crew to secure and transport any recoverable Fate mech and the mechmen to Perspicia for investigation, Sir.”
“Mechmen?”
“Yes, Sir.” Captain Jensen nodded. “That’s what the men have been calling the mechanical men.”
“Men? Wha…?”
Captain Jensen’s attention slipped past Cole and growing alarm creased his brow. Cole followed his line of sight to see Sam inspecting something on the ground near the tree line. He hadn’t even noticed her dismount.
“Sir, she can’t be there.”
Cole ignored the Captain and crossed the short distance to Sam. As he got closer, he was shocked to see her stooped over the bodies of the dead Fate soldiers. Decomposing bodies were really not something a woman should see.
“Sam, I don’t…” Cole started as he approached.
She was not just looking at them, she was touching them.
“Sam!”
She continued with her inspection as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Sam?” he pleaded, standing next to her.
There was something familiar in her movements. She looked at the dead men and their mech the same way she studied him last night. Her head cocked like a curious puppy, she traced the outline of a pair of goggles with her eyes. She tilted her head to the other side and examined the pistol, then the sword.
“Sir, she really can’t…”
“Shhh.” Cole held his hand up to stop the Captain. Like last night, he felt it was important not to interrupt her trance. “She’s your Princess. She can do whatever she wants.” He added as an afterthought.
“My Lord! I didn’t – Forgive me.”
“Shhh,” Cole silenced Captain Jensen again.
Sam searched the entire body, moving stiff pale limbs and touching the exposed hands. Her explorations revealed metal fused over the soldier’s heart. Angry red lines snaked from the edges of the bolted plate. The man’s finger tips were also fused with silver discs. She then turned her trance-like gaze to the mechman.
She reached into the pack slung over her chest and pulled out a screw driver and large wrench. Once at the mechman, she set to work repairing the damage done the day before.
Cole asked her this morning if she could fix the damage to the mechman. She said she could, but needed tools and a few supplies. Sagewood may not have running water, but the town did have a small tinker shop.
Cole remembered his mother taking him to a candy s
tore once when he was a boy. The colors, shapes and smells had been overwhelming and never ending. That was what the tinker shop was to Sam. She had to touch and explore everything. The stooped old man who owned the store ran quickly out of patience with her bombardment of questions, grumbling about the need to retire under his breath. She must have asked, “what’s this”, a dozen times. She hadn’t been afraid to ask, to be curious. Cole was almost certain it was pride that swelled his chest at her confidence in the tinker shop.
Now it brimmed with anxiety. The higher she climbed, the tighter Cole’s stomach clenched. Each foot hold she missed sent his heart to his throat. She sat on the “hip” ledge of the mechman and removed what looked like a fat ink pen with a spring grip and a roll of thin silver wire. Squeezing the handle on the pen for a moment, she then went to work on the panel she had destroyed. An acrid thread of smoke wafted from the tip as she worked it over a piece of wire.
Finally, she made it to the control area where the head should be and settled herself in the chair. The trance began again. After a while, she reached toward something and then pulled her hand back like touching a hot pan. The trance broke with a nervous laugh.
“Booby-trapped.” She smiled down at him and began her descent. Once on the ground, she beckoned Cole and Captain Jensen to the corpses.
“Look,” Sam said, breathing heavy from her exertions. She lifted the corpse’s hand. “See. It’s a key.” She pointed to small metal discs that were embedded in the fingertips of the soldier. “If you try to turn it on without these, something happens. I’m not willing to find out what.” She dropped the hand and stood, wiping her hands on her pants.
“I’ll make sure all the men know to be careful,” Jensen said and trotted off to his comrades.
The lighthearted Sam from the morning was gone; worry lined her eyes instead of laughter as she looked up at the mechman.
“What’s wrong?” Cole silently willed her not to slip back, to stay herself.
“Um…” Her hands were on her hips, still trying to catch her breath from the climb. “Jasper designed it.” Her voice cracked when she said his name, the pain of betrayal evident. Cole put an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. She leaned into him without hesitation. “Why would he do that? Work for the Fate?” she pondered aloud.
