“You came here to Tonturin, then?”
“Yes.”
“And since they’d refused to believe you were an engineer when you were a woman, you pretended to be a man.”
“That’s right. My father and Halbernon are old friends. I came here and he helped me.”
Jeremy was sitting up now, leaned towards her easy chair as she talked. It all made sense now. He knew why she was in trouble, and he knew one other thing; he had to try and stop the villains that had gone after her and her family. He just didn’t know how. His eyes traveled over her slender form as she sat curled up in the easy chair; her long, thin legs, her small waist and shoulders, her honey-colored hair thick around her ears. She should be cherished, he thought. Her mind was just as amazing as those eyes of hers. Everyone had always told him he was smart, but in her— and he shook his head at the enormity of it— in her he’d met his match. He watched as his own hand ventured forward across the space between them. He took hold of her smaller hand and entwined their fingers.
“Fillipi,” he breathed. Her eyes blinked rapidly in reply, as mesmerizing as a steam cloud. He drew even closer until their faces nearly touched. With his other hand he tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. She lifted her head so gently. He should stop himself but he couldn’t help but allow his thumb to caress the line of her jaw and their two breaths to mingle.
“What?” she finally whispered in reply.
“I’ve got to do this, you understand, right? I’ve got to be the Time Mechanic, I mean.”
“I understand.”
“But I want to hide you away; send you someplace safe.”
She drew back and smiled at him.
“No Jeremy, you can’t have everything you want in this. You have a mission, and you need help. Mars and Kannikey… and you need my help. You know it, too.”
“Yes, I know it, blast it!”
Her smile increased and he knew what his words had reminded her of, but, he brushed the image of Mars away with an impatient wave of his hand. There was no way the grouchy man in the next room was getting anywhere with this girl’s interest. Jeremy intended to fight for it in the only way he could think. With both hands he took hold of her face. He kissed her eyelids, her cheek, and then settled his lips on the dimple above her smile. At last he kissed her mouth, adjusting so he could pull her even closer. It was some long moments later that he broke off the contact. She pulled back and smiled at him before she got up and he responded to her soft good night with a barely cognizant grunt. He may have intended to solidify her interest in him but the opposite had occurred. Despite all the changes that had happened to him and all the risks that were before him he found he could think of nothing but her as he punched the skimpy pillow on the sofa and tried to get comfortable. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty-Five (In Which Jeremy is Reminded of Rule Number One)
Sometime in the night he had a dream. It wasn’t the vision he was expecting, where he was shown a valuable clue to help him face his enemies, or even to define who his enemies were. In the dream he was walking down a curving street of Tonturin, but it was from long ago. He knew this because he came to the fountain structure at the very center and realized that parts of the innards of the fountain hadn’t been fully constructed yet. He could see the pipes from which the water would pour when the fountain was completed.
He wasn’t able to study the ancient water spout however. Instead he went to the edge of the paved stones that surrounded it. A tarpaulin was laid over the ground, at the edge of the stones. It was getting dark out and he saw that a hand appeared in front of him, carrying a lantern. The city square and the newly constructed buildings around the middle of Tonturin were empty and silent. The hand set the lantern down on the ground and then lifted the tarpaulin. Underneath was a wide hole, dug down to reach the water source under the city. A wooden ladder extended downwards into the hole and the pitch dark. The lantern came along as he climbed down the ladder many feet. At the bottom were the tools the workmen were using to make the fountain above operational. Yet in the vision he passed the clump of tools and went on.
There was a door he came to— one which had been camouflaged to look like it was the end of hole he was standing in. The door was opened and in passing through he was surprised to see a long tunnel. Parts of the tunnel seemed to be made of rock, molded by lava boulders. But these had been cleared to leave a level path with a ceiling above so a person could walk. The man-high tunnel began as a cave carved by nature, but now its fortifications were newer. Heavy beam squares supporting the walls were placed every few feet to keep the tunnel’s integrity as he moved forward. Space lost its distance in these visions so he had no idea how long the journey was but he reached the end of the long tunnel in just a few steps. He thought he’d come a long way. The lantern was set down here and the tunnel opened up into a dripping cave that had already existed. The floor of the cave was wet, the rock around it was curled and glassy mixed with obsidian and it landed up against a vast knotted wall of stone mixed with small boulders. Behind those boulders he felt massive heat. Steam drifted between the boiling stones.
He knew what this was. Everyone knew that under Tonturin existed a wall that held back the potent steam of the underworld. It was said that those that’d gone too closely underground near the steam wall and who were caught breathing in the fumes of this steam had strange things happen to them thereafter: dreams, visions of roiling lava, and hallucinations of terrifying unformed creatures. The human brain wasn’t built to understand every message that steam could define- especially this steam. Thick like fog it rolled great distances and thin like the merest edge of mist it absorbed into the skin of living things. In the ancient past this steam had been studied but when deemed too dangerous for benefit the cave had been buried and covered over right when Tonturin was being built. Or so Jeremy had been taught.
To his surprise the same hand that’d carried the lantern now dropped a pack and lifted from it a strong hammer and a sharp tong to pierce the steam wall. It pounded a deep hole between two moist stones. Once the hole was created a mass of steam escaped, and Jeremy jumped back in his sleep. But a capped pipe was rammed into the fissure so fast- and yet the hand that corked the steam was burned by the contact. Still the hand went on pushing- driving the pipe backwards and lodging it secure.
The hand went on working, both hands now. Plaster was applied, and scraped tight and sure with a ledge tool. The cracks around the edge of pipe were filled so no steam could escape into any place but the pipe and when baked hard by the heat of the steam the plaster would hold that pipe in place forever, or until an earthquake or a mallet dislodged it.
Once finished the hand packed the tools back into the pack and picked up the lantern again. Soon he was back from the camouflaged door and up the ladder and with relief was out of the hole. The tarpaulin was replaced but the vision wasn’t finished yet. He walked up to a shrouded form that he hadn’t noticed before at the edge of the fountain. It was covered with a large sheet, which the hand removed. Now Jeremy recognized what this was. It was the stone horse statue that cavorted in the market square. It looked a bit lumpy, he thought, even now when it was freshly sculpted, as if an inexpert hand had formed it instead of an artist. For the first time he was made to see underneath the sculpture, for it was resting on the top of a deck on a wagon.
He saw a tangle of slots, intricate boards of tiny tubes and a heavy metal box lodged right up into the space where a real horse’s brain resided. Wide pipes were inside the statue as well, pipes that allowed the steam that constantly drifted out of the horse’s nose.
There were legends spoken about this horse statue as well as the steam wall beneath Tonturin. No one remembered much about the man that’d built the fountain arena and statues, other than he’d been odd, vastly intelligent beyond his time, and extremely wealthy. He’d donated so much money to have Tonturin built that his wishes had been made into law. No one was ever to disturb the
horse statue until it crumbled into dust. And since the horse statue was so curious people didn’t mind. Sometimes the steam that came out of the horse’s nose was as thin as a vapor. Other times it billowed out in clouds that overtook the entire market square. It was said that the horse could talk and that the steam it emitted was giving out messages; if only it were possible to speak its language.
Jeremy had laughed at the old tales like everyone else. The quirky nature of Tonturin’s horse statue was just one of the things that made Tonturin unique. Tourists would be told the tales to increase sales in the shops. But no one took the stories seriously.
Jeremy began to wonder if the horse statue was the cause of more than he realized when his vision showed him one other thing. Out of the pack the hand pulled a roll of papers, which looked like the stolen designs of Fillipi’s that he’d removed from the roof. The hand opened the papers and a finger traced the complicated mass of formulas and diagrams the design described. It was so intricate and involved many pages of designs so Jeremy didn’t bother trying to decipher it. He only focused on the words at the top of the page. It said ‘Steam Definer.’ He understood that the design seemed to have something to do with discerning messages from both the steam that went out of the horse’s nostrils and also the air from roundabout Tonturin that came back in.
As the vision faded and he realized he’d never been asleep at all his eyes popped open. Knowledge about the intent behind the horse statue and also what had happened to him in relation to it entered his brain as if the vision had left the information behind as a parting gift. That horse statue was more than just a lumpy curiosity near Tonturin’s famous fountain. The fact that he’d been shown this vision proved it. He didn’t know what it all meant, yet, but he knew without a doubt this one thing. He’d just been shown a powerful secret— which had to do with the connection between the steam wall, the horse statue and its inventor and the way that the Time Mechanics had all arisen, and he must keep this secret without telling a single soul until the day he died.
He shivered and wished Mars had given him a blanket. Then he felt young and tired and wished Mars had forgiven him. He sat up and surprised himself. He bent his head and sobbed. He’d thought that being the Time Mechanic was such a privilege and that had pleased him. But now he knew something else; thanks to the information that’d been left in his mind along with the vision he’d just had. In becoming the Time Mechanic he’d been changed. He’d walked by the horse statue those many days ago and a unique steam dosage had been released like a vapor that he’d breathed in. He’d been chosen to be dosed at that moment, when the market square was deserted and he was the only one to receive it.
He’d been poisoned by villains four mornings ago and had barely survived it when his enemies had tried to kill him. But he’d already been poisoned by steam before that; when he’d accepted the duties of Time Mechanic the damage done inside his brain had become irreversible. That’s why Mars had found him on his knees by the edge of the horse statue that morning. That’s what had knocked him out at the doctor’s offices for so long. That’s why he’d bought the blasted coat to begin with. The power to see visions wasn’t one he’d been born with. He’d been given that ability so he could complete his mission. He’d even been able, when he held his companions’ hands, to show them a vision. He could fight too, and scale cliffs and know when someone was following him and who knew what else. But in being given these new abilities he’d lost something as well. He was no longer a simple human like anyone else. He now felt like the loneliest man in the world. He sniffed away emotion and stumbled in the darkened room towards the hall closet. Inside was hanging his coat. For a moment he didn’t want to wear it anymore but there was no longer any point in protesting. He still had a job to do and history would record this time as a devastating loss if he failed. Besides he was cold. He took down the coat and put it on. In this way, wrapped tight in his new identity, he was finally able to lie back on the sofa and fall asleep just as the edge of dawn lit the morning sky.
Chapter Twenty-Six (In Which Jeremy Finds More Than Just His Mind Cleared)
Despite the fact that Jeremy only had two hours of sleep he felt stronger when he was awakened by Kannikey coming in to Mars’ house the next morning. He lay on the sofa and listened to the sound of the girls talking although he wasn’t paying much attention to what they were saying. They both sounded happy, he thought, as if they hadn’t had other friends to talk to like women for a long time. He supposed they hadn’t. At last they spoke of him.
“How’s Jeremy doing?” Kannikey said. “He’s over there in his coat, like he thinks he can leap up and run off after being so sick!”
“He’s still a bit weak. Mars made him sleep out here last night and didn’t even give him a blanket!” said Ffip, sounding exasperated.
“Are they still fighting?”
“It’s ridiculous. They squabble like wolf pups.”
Mars came walking down the hallway at that second. Jeremy stayed on the sofa and watched as the man entered his kitchen and stole a half slice of toast that Ffip had just buttered.
“Leave off!” the girl scolded, but she was smiling. Mars had an easy time keeping the toast away from her; he just held it over her head. It seemed strange to see the man so casual; like he used to always act when they’d been friends. Kannikey knew how to get the job done, however. She elbowed into Mars’ side and entwined herself upwards until he let her have the toast from his hand. She smiled right into the man’s eyes and took a bite of it in victory.
Jeremy thought the three of them had become comfortable with each other while he’d been lying in the back room so sick. He tried to tell himself that was a good thing. It was important for the team to bond. He was now the odd one out anyway, different than he’d been before.
Kannikey spoke about him and broke his time of introspection.
“Why didn’t you give Jeremy a blanket when you kicked him out of his room?” she demanded of Mars.
“It’s not his room,” Mars replied.
“Yes, yes, we know this is your house and your things; you’ve told us all that before.”
Mars grinned at her.
“So give me my toast,” he said.
She stuck her tongue out at him, before shoving the rest of the piece of toast into her mouth. Ffip chuckled.
“Let’s all have breakfast; you two are making me hungry.”
“What about Jeremy…” said Kannikey, and then she noticed that he was standing behind her. “Oh, hello,” she said to him. “Good morning, I mean. How are you feeling?”
Jeremy shook his head.
“As recovered as I’ll ever be,” he said.
“That’s a strange way of putting it. What do you mean?” said Kannikey.
“Nothing. I feel better.”
“Well sit down everyone, before the eggs get cold,” said Ffip.
Jeremy wasn’t very hungry. The two girls spoke of Kannikey’s bags of clothes and how Ffip was about to run out of differing outfits to wear each day. Mars volunteered that there was much laundry to be done, he’d heat up the pans of water later for it was his day off at the shop. The three fell into chatting about the festival after that, discussing whether or not Mars had more time to prepare and if Kannikey could help him decorate his shop.
All of a sudden Jeremy’s head fell forward onto his chest and a vision struck him. It was of a carriage, arriving from out of town. He saw the four horses being pulled up sharp by the driver and then the small door opening from the inside to let a passenger out. The passenger stood on the road and adjusted his coat sleeves. A man hurried over to the passenger and bowed with deep respect. Jeremy recognized the newcomer. It was the white-haired thug he was so familiar with and the man stepped up onto the carriage wheel so he could pull down the passenger’s luggage from the top.
The passenger was a tall man dressed in expensive travel clothes. He was in his late forties and had a gold watch, two gold buttons, and even a gold handle on his
case. His shoes were shined and clean. He allowed the white-haired man to gather his luggage without a passing glance at him or a word of thank you. Somehow Jeremy understood that he was being shown in this vision a worse enemy than any he’d encountered so far. Perhaps it was another piece of knowledge dropped in his mind, or perhaps it was the cold emptiness in the man’s eyes. A voice, coming from a man Jeremy couldn’t see, spoke to the elegant man.
“You came sooner than I expected, sir,” the voice said.
The elegant man drew taller with narrowed eyes.
“It seems I must supervise the final phase of our project,” he replied in his cold voice.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the first voice stuttered. Now Jeremy recognized this person as well by the tone of the voice. It was Serrin. “We thought we’d located the girl but she seems to have disappeared. We’ll have to use the second prototype created for our project.”
“We’ll speak of this later,” the elegant man said, “after I’ve been placed at my Inn and dined.”
“Of course, QuRellon. I’ve already secured accommodations for you at Tonturin’s finest Inn. We’ll take my carriage, it’s just over there.”
Now Jeremy knew his chief enemy’s name. He remembered that the log book in the bag of contraband he’d taken from the roof had referred to a man; the name abbreviated to ‘QL’. This QuRellon obviously gave orders and Serrin obeyed them, as well as the white-haired thug that was acting like a servant. QuRellon didn’t reply to Serrin’s anxious description of the fine accommodations he’d gotten for him. He just strode over to the carriage and climbed inside.
The Time Mechanic Page 18
