Like Clockwork

by Bonnie Dee

  Curiosity. He'd developed an emotion of sorts, quite apart from what he was programmed to do. The automatons were capable of change.

  "So you kil ed and dismembered those women in search of an answer?"

  "Yes." He stared blankly at her body. Even a lascivious leer might have been better than his wooden expression.

  "What did you expect to find?"

  "People speak of a soul. I had hoped to find evidence."

  "Wel , it's not contained in the heart. It's something intangible inside people." Victoria was amazed at her ability to form coherent sentences, since her mind was screaming that she was about to die. Perhaps the only way out of this was to appeal to the machine's sense of logic.

  "You must understand if you kil me on my drawing room floor, the murder wil probably be traced back to you."

  "It wil not matter, for after I find out what makes you work, I wil shut down permanently. Without you to serve, Miss Waters, I have no reason for existence."

  "In that case, it would be smart of you to keep me alive, wouldn't it, so you might continue to live?"

  "I shal be shut down even if you remain alive, for I know it is not considered proper to kil people. There is no solution. My time of operation is finished. But before I cease to exist, I must know what makes you Miss Waters."

  He knelt beside her and lifted his hand. A knife blade flashed silver and icy fear bathed her body. People claimed that when one faced death, an entire lifetime of memories flashed before one's eyes, but al she saw was the knife and al she thought was I will never kiss Dash again or learn what making love really means.

  "I hope this doesn't hurt you. I do not mean to cause you pain. You must understand I can not stop this. I have to see you inside."

  The door knocker banging against the plate came from the front of the house. Patterson's hand halted in midair, the blade poised over Victoria's heaving chest.

  "Just a moment. I must answer the door."

  He pushed the gag into her mouth and rose to his feet, his rigid adherence to his serving protocol temporarily overriding his desire to dissect her.

  "I shal return," he informed her politely, before striding from the room with clockwork precision. He held the knife out of sight behind his back.

  As Victoria listened to his receding footsteps, she tried to work her hands free of the ropes binding them. The harder she pul ed, the tighter the knots became. She pressed her fingers together, trying to contract her hands so she might work them loose.

  Down the length of a hal way she recognized the voice of the person at the door.

  Victoria pushed with her tongue, spitting the gag from her mouth.

  "Dash, beware of Patterson! He has a knife."

  She screamed and thrashed, dragging the heavy chair a little across the floor. From a distance came the sound of thumps and Dash's shout while Victoria struggled in vain to free herself.

  ***

  From the moment the butler opened the door, Dash felt there was something wrong. The automaton's form was perfect as always.

  "May I help you, sir?" But there was something off about him. His words, though stil spoken in a monotone, sounded a bit rushed.

  His clothing was rumpled, and he cast a glance down the hal as if there was a task he wished to get back to. If Dash didn't know better, he'd say the machine was anxious about something.

  "Is Miss Waters at home?"

  "No. She has stepped out. If you wish to leave a card, I'm certain she wil return your cal at her earliest convenience."

  "I have no card." Dash's disappointment was keener than he'd like to admit. It had taken him time to work up the nerve to face Victoria. He'd seen her home a little over an hour ago and had counted on her stil being there. "Please tel her Dash stopped by."

  "Very good, sir." The butler began to close the door.

  Then Dash heard Victoria yel his name. He jammed his foot in the door and shouldered it open, pushing Patterson backward.

  "You must leave, sir," the butler protested, but Dash knocked him aside and headed toward the sound of Victoria's screams. She was yel ing other things he couldn't quite make out.

  "I'm coming," he cal ed as he started down the hal way. Just then a streak of fire shot the length of his arm. It took him a moment to understand it was the cut of a knife. Dash whirled to face his attacker.

  Patterson stabbed at his face. The blade sliced from Dash's temple down his cheek, narrowly missing his eyes. He grunted and grabbed the butler's arm to prevent another blow. He'd been in knife fights before and automatical y squeezed the butler's wrist, trying to loosen his grip on the knife. But beneath the slick fabricated skin was a frame of metal. Patterson was much stronger than Dash. His only hope was to turn the thing off, but he had no idea where its switch was.

  "It is best you go now." The machine continued to offer the polite responses he'd been programmed to give an unwelcome guest, while trying to drive the knife into him.

  Dash punched the polished face, snapping the thing's head back.

  The impact nearly shattered his knuckles, but the automaton's frame must not have been intended to sustain an impact because when Patterson raised his head it was at a skewed angle.

  "This is not appropriate behavior for a guest." He wrenched his arm free from Dash's numb grip and stabbed at his face again.

  Dash leaped away, hitting a side table. A silver correspondence tray clattered to the floor along with a letter opener. Dash snatched it up and drove the letter opener toward Patterson's stomach, shearing through his waistcoat. In counterpoint, Patterson jammed his knife into Dash's shoulder. Buried deep in muscle tissue, it stuck there as Dash pul ed away from Patterson's grip.

  Dash drew the knife from his shoulder, hissing at the pain. He slashed at Patterson's face, slicing through polymer skin as cleanly as a tailor cutting fabric. Patterson started to raise his hands to shield himself, but Dash scored his face again and again. Soon shredded polymer hung in streamers from the metal skul beneath.

  Stil Patterson kept moving. And meanwhile, in the other room, Victoria was screaming herself hoarse.

  Dash's shoulder and cheek were aflame. He was tired of trying to find a way to stop this damn machine. Grabbing Patterson by the shoulders, he slammed him against the wal , making the plaster crack, then stabbed the knife just below the breastbone where a human heart would be. The blade hit metal and Patterson jerked, al his limbs flailing.

  Dash held the creature upright as he twisted the knife, severing its circuitry. "Die, damn you."

  The butler clutched Dash's throat, choking the breath from him, and Dash had to release the knife to pry the metal fingers loose one by one. He gasped for air and stumbled backward.

  Patterson pushed off from the wal . The mechanical man's face was a ruin, its head tilted at an impossible angle and the knife protruding from the shredded waistcoat. It tottered drunkenly toward Dash, plucking the knife from its stomach.

  Dash grabbed a decorative gilt chair and knocked the automaton to the floor with it. When the chair fel apart, he picked up a splintered leg and hit Patterson's head.

  At last the machine stopped moving. Dash pul ed the knife from its body. Wheezing for breath, he raced toward the sound of Victoria's screams.

  She lay naked on the drawing room floor, staked between two pieces of furniture. His heart cartwheeled through his chest, horror and relief rising and fal ing with each turn. He dropped to his knees beside her and cut the rope binding one wrist. "Are you al right?"

  "Fine. I'm fine. Is he shut down?"

  "I gave him a good bashing. Don't think he'l move again."

  "What about you? Your face...and your shoulder's bleeding. My God."

  In the heat of battle Dash had almost forgotten about his injuries.

  He touched his cheek and his fingers came away bloodied. "He gave me a few slices, but I'l live."

  Dash col ected her clothing from the floor and gave it to her. He averted his eyes from her bare breasts and concentrated on cu
tting the rope around her ankles.

  Victoria pul ed on her chemise. "I think he kil ed my housekeeper, Mrs. Rose. Oh Dash, this thing lived in my house for months and I never had a clue it was a kil er. I feel responsible for those girls'

  deaths. I helped create a monster like that--the thing that kil ed your Lizzie."

  The Slasher. Dash had guessed as much, but to hear her say it sent a chil through him. He'd been a hairsbreadth away from losing Victoria forever. If he hadn't come here, if he'd gone home, if he'd been a few minutes later, she would have been another victim, ripped open and with her heart cut out. Relief and revulsion vied for space inside him.

  "You couldn't have guessed. Who would have imagined the kil er was a machine? Al that matters is that you're safe, you're alive."

  He rubbed the rope burns around each of her ankles, cradling her icy feet to warm them. He would never let her go. Not after coming so near to losing her. If she only wanted his friendship, that would be sufficient. Anything in order for him to remain close to her and protect her from any further harm.

  Dash turned away so Victoria could finish dressing. The rustling of her clothes reminded him of her nudity, and he chided himself for being a little aroused even under such perverse circumstances.

  "Harvey was right about our automated servants being spies for the Commission. Patterson admitted it," she said. "But the Commission is so powerful we must handle this careful y. Even the police might be in their hip pocket. I think we should go to the newspapers and tel the entire story. These men must be exposed."

  Dash didn't want to think about what came next. Right now, he only wanted to hold Victoria and feel that she was alive and wel .

  He turned to find her buttoning her blouse, slid his hands around her waist and pul ed her tight against him. She rested her head against his chest, her body trembling in his arms. The stab wound in his shoulder throbbed, and the cut on his face stung, but he'd never been more content than he was at this moment, holding her in his arms.

  "You came back," she murmured. "You were coming to see me."

  "I thought about what you said about taking a chance." Dash didn't add the rest--that he'd decided he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Victoria would risk far more than he, putting her good name on the line by involving herself with him. The least he could do was match her bravery. If everything fel apart later, any pain he suffered would be worth having known a little bit of joy for once in his life.

  A movement in the doorway caught his attention. He pushed Victoria away from him and whirled to face the automaton. The thing was distorted beyond recognition, much of its frame and circuitry visible where the casing had been sliced or battered.

  The machine limped toward them, one eye popped from its socket and dangling by wires down its cheek.

  "Not...protocol." The voice wavered in and out in static bursts.

  "...care for tea, miss?...wil you be...to secure the data...precision is key."

  Dash charged with a roar, ramming his shoulder into the automaton's stomach. He tackled it to the ground, grabbed its neck and slammed the back of the head against the floor.

  The mechanical man tried to shove Dash off and ended up on top of him. A hard metal fist punched Dash in the face. Stars exploded in his vision.

  "...nuh can...she is..." Garbled words burst from the thing's mouth.

  And then suddenly the machine went stil and col apsed against him.

  He crawled out from underneath the silent hunk of metal.

  Victoria stood over them, her eyes wide in her pale face. "The switch is at the base of its neck. I've turned the power off."

  Dash climbed to his feet and she nearly knocked him over as she threw her arms around him. He held her until she drew away. "I should check on Mrs. Rose, and your wounds need tending."

  "I don't care." He pul ed her back to him, cupped her face in his hand and kissed her deeply. Her skin was so soft and warm beneath his palm. Real skin on a flesh-and-blood woman.

  At last he broke off the kiss. "Maybe we're too different. Our worlds are miles apart even though they're in the same city. But we're both human. We both breathe and eat and sleep."

  "And love," she added, looking into his eyes with a luminous gaze that made his heart bump. "Don't forget that. People need someone who is special to them."

  "I want to spend time with you, Victoria Waters." He stroked her hair, so fiery red he thought it should burn his hand. "If you want to."

  She smiled. "I do."

  Epilogue

  Five months later

  Dash blew in through the front door on a gust of damp autumn air, his dark coat swirling around him. He tossed his umbrel a in the direction of the stand and shrugged out of his topcoat. Victoria was there to take it, since she'd seen him through the parlor window, coming up the street.

  "Busy day?" She inhaled the scent of fresh air, printer's ink and righteousness that enveloped her energetic husband.

  "Look at this." He opened his satchel and drew out a newspaper which he thrust at her. "Conspiracy to spy, lie and even commit murder apparently isn't enough to convict the members of the Commission. There's nothing concrete to connect them to Samuels's death, and most of them wil retain their posts when this trial is over. I've no doubt of it."

  Victoria studied the headline of Dash's paper and read a few lines of the article beneath. "Wel , at least the Brotherhood has representation on the Commission now. We've won that, at least."

  His dark eyes crackled with fire and his wind-whipped hair tumbled over his forehead. With his ink-stained sleeves rol ed up his forearms and his waistcoat unbuttoned, he looked every inch the harried, overworked owner of a smal printing press. "People don't want to know the truth. They'd rather keep their heads buried under their bedcovers and hope the whole thing wil go away."

  Victoria smoothed back Dash's dark locks and pressed a kiss to his lips, then she grasped the front of his shirt and gave him a little shake. "I don't believe that and neither do you. Yes, some people want to forget the entire fiasco, pretend they never hired a mechanical nanny to look after their precious little ones. But there are plenty of people who want to get to the bottom of the Commission's involvement in promoting widespread use before the automatons had been ful y tested."

  Dash made a noise caught somewhere between a growl and a grunt. He tossed his satchel in the corner near the umbrel a stand and caught Victoria up in his arms, lifting her off her feet as he gave her a more thorough kiss.

  When at last he set her down, she had to cling to him a moment to catch her balance. She'd never imagined simply kissing would be enough to throw her so off-kilter and set her body throbbing in al sorts of places. She and Dash had been together nearly half a year, yet the mere sight of him was stil enough to make her heart race. No one had told her love would be like this.

  "Enough of talking about the Commission. It only riles my temper," Dash said. "Tel me about your work. How did things go at the lab today?"

  "Frustrating. I know there's a flaw in my formula but I can't find it. I miss Harvey. We worked so wel together. If either of us couldn't see the forest for the trees, the other was always able to figure out the problem."

  "Perhaps you'l find someone new you can work with."

  "Maybe. But I'd be very careful who I trust with my research. One would think the development of polymer skin for burn victims could have no negative consequences, but I no longer underestimate the ability of man to take a positive idea and ruin it."

  His eyebrows shot up. "Now who's the cynic? What happened to the intrinsic good in people?"

  "Oh, I believe in that. But I guess you've rubbed off on me. I'm no longer naive enough to give my trust away too easily."

  Dash frowned and cupped her chin in his hand. "Don't say that.

  One of the things I love most about you is your openness and your ability to believe the best of people. If you hadn't given me your trust despite my kidnapping you, I wouldn't be here now. I wouldn't be the ma
n you've made of me."

  "Not I," she protested. "I loaned you a little money, but you created your business for yourself. Dash, you have made yourself who you are."

  He shrugged. "As you wish. But I know the truth of it. Now, how about something to eat, woman? I'm starving."

  "I've only just arrived home myself and haven't had time to make anything. How I miss Mrs. Rose's cooking."

  "Did I say anything about the kitchen? There are other things besides food to be hungry for." His devilish smile made her stomach flip. Al thoughts of dinner fled from her head.

  Once more he scooped her off her feet, an arm behind her back and another supporting her legs, and this time he carried her toward their bedroom. Victoria put her arms around his neck and hung on loosely as he mounted the stairs.

  She felt a thril as she always did when he carried her and couldn't help but remember the first time. What a strange beginning to their relationship. Anomalies and unexpected factors. A scientist could never discount their influence on an experiment.

  "Speaking of Mrs. Rose's cooking, she'l be returning to us soon.

  Her sabbatical by the seaside has greatly helped her recovery."

  Dash frowned. "Must we have a housekeeper at al ? Can't we continue on as we have been, making our own meals and hiring in help to keep the house clean?"

  She rested her head against his shoulder and admired the cut of his sharp jawline. "You'l like Mrs. Rose, and she wil get used to you. Once you've tasted her roast beef or her blancmange, you'l never want to live without her cooking again."

  "I like it being just us." Dash pushed open the bedroom door with his foot.

  She guessed his concern was having the housekeeper regard him as a social inferior who'd mesmerized Victoria into marrying him. Many people thought as much. If she hadn't already been ostracized from society for her oddities, people certainly would've blackbal ed her for her hasty marriage to a man of inferior birth.

  She leaned in and kissed his scarred cheek. "I like it being just us, too. But we can't have that forever."

  "I know." He stooped and laid her on the bed.

  Victoria had learned much about sex and her own body and what Dash liked over the past months. Now she sprawled provocatively on the bed with her arms raised above her head and waited for him to unwrap her like a gift.