by L. C. Mawson
“You asked me a few days ago what I would do in your position and I just now figured it out.”
“Michel-”
“Ruth, please. You can’t go through with this. I wouldn’t.”
She blinked, surprised.
“I thought making that decision was outside your parameters,” she eventually managed.
“So did I. I guess I’m more flexible than either of us thought.”
“I suppose so,” she managed.
Her friend-turned-soldier-turned-husband.
Turned-person.
If Michel was operating outside of his parameters, so might any others made from his designs.
They were people, and they were going to be used as expendable cannon fodder.
“If I don’t, James will tell everyone. My whole family will be ruined.”
Michel took her hands in his gloved ones. “Then tell them first.” He nodded to the crowd in front of them, telling her exactly what he meant. “Tell them how you are such a great inventor that you built a person. That their rules made you hide behind your creation, but no more. They will understand. You are, after all, the Greatest Inventor in Britain.”
Ruth nodded, realising that he was right.
She didn’t have to play by James’ rules.
“You truly are the greatest thing I ever created,” she told him.
“Then let’s show them.”
She took a deep breath before turning to face the crowd staring at her with confused frowns.
“I’m afraid I have not been honest,” she said clearly, her voice echoing around the empty room. “There is no Owl. There never was.”
She reached up to Michel’s face and removed his wig and mask, revealing the ceramic face beneath.
The room echoed with gasps. Ruth could have sworn that she saw someone faint out of the corner of her eye.
“Inventing was never seen as a suitable pastime for a lady of my station. My uncle created The Owl so that he could sell my inventions while I retained anonymity.
“However, after arriving in London, I realised that would no longer do. People wanted to meet The Owl, and I was being pursued by numerous suitors, despite the fact that I have never wanted to marry.
“In order to retain my independence and appease those who wanted to meet The Owl, I took to my workshop and built a man to pose as The Owl in my place. But no more. I cannot, in good conscience, keep lying.”
She took another deep breath, completely unable to tell how the crowd in front of was reacting. Their silence gave away nothing.
“My name is Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone, and I am The Owl. I am Britain’s Greatest Inventor. I built a walking, talking, thinking man out of metal. If you can’t see past my gender and station to appreciate that, then that is your problem, not mine.”
She turned back to Michel.
“Come on,” she said. “I think it’s time for me to return home to my workshop.”
AS SOON AS RUTH HAD finished running the few streets back home with Michel in tow, she promptly threw up as the weight of what she had done finally hit her.
She had admitted to being The Owl.
And to building a metal husband.
Would they believe her?
Or would they think that she had made him to satisfy an odd bedroom preference?
She leaned back against the hallway wall as soon as the door closed behind her. She slid to the floor and started to cry.
She had no idea what else to do.
The tears seemed the only sensible thing left.
She waited and waited for Thomas or Ivy to return home.
Michel waited patiently with her as she blubbed in the silence of the house.
Neither Thomas nor Ivy came back. She assumed they were dealing with the mess she had made.
She had no idea how much time had passed when the knock at the door came, only that the room was bathed in the pink glow of sunset.
She wiped away her tears, along with a significant portion of makeup, before answering the door.
She presumably looked like something out of a nightmare, with her smeared face and her wedding dress worn from her run home. The knocker, however, remained stoic as he stood in full military attire.
“I have been sent to fetch you for the Queen,” he told her.
Of course, she thought. She had just publicly announced that she had tried to dupe the Queen. That she had succeeded, really.
She nodded, knowing that fighting would do no good. They were most likely authorised to use force to drag her there if she protested.
“Your mechanical man too,” the man at the door said.
Before she could protest, Michel was at her side.
“Lead on,” Michel said to the man and Ruth smiled a little, glad that he was by her side.
18
The carriage ride to the palace seemed shorter than Ruth had remembered, though she supposed her dread might have had something to do with it.
The man from the door, who still hadn’t properly introduced himself, led them inside as they arrived, taking them to a room they hadn’t visited during the ball.
As he opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of Queen Victoria, regaled in black, sitting atop her throne and glaring down at her.
Ruth stepped forward, feeling incredibly silly in her tattered wedding dress, with her smeared face and wild hair.
“So,” the Queen said, sitting even straighter, which Ruth wouldn’t have thought possible.
Ruth felt herself wither under her stare.
“You are The Owl?”
“I... Yes, Your Majesty,” she managed, her voice coming out as barely more than a whisper.
“I spoke with James. He was in charge of your contract, was he not?”
“He was.”
“He told me that you had rejected the idea of your inventions being used in battle. He admitted to extorting you.” She stood up and began to walk down to Ruth, not taking her eyes off of her. “I want you to understand that he did not have my leave to take such actions. He was acting entirely on his own, and he will be punished for such poor behaviour.”
Ruth frowned a little, not quite believing what she was hearing.
“This is the metal man?” the Queen asked, indicating to Michel.
“Yes,” Ruth managed. “I only intended to program him for basic social interactions, but he has since shown that he is capable of operating outside of his parameters. I can’t think of a better threshold by which to judge humanity.”
“Me neither,” the Queen agreed as she examined Michel.
“Then please, Ma’am, you cannot build soldiers to his specifications. They would be no better than slaves.”
“I quite agree,” she replied as she returned her attention to Ruth. “And such behaviour is the domain of the Americans, not the British Empire.”
“I thought they had stopped that after the war.”
The Queen waved her hand dismissively. “Nonetheless, James was short-sighted. While your inventions are effective weapons, there are other ways for them to serve the Empire and I doubt putting you under duress would help the creative spirit. I would much rather have you working with us willingly.”
“I... Really? Even though I’m a woman?”
“My dear, what gender do you think me to be?”
“Yes, but you’re the Queen.”
“And you are The Owl. Britain’s Greatest Inventor. I will not allow such inconsequential things to stop the progress you could bring to the Empire.”
“Thank you,” Ruth managed.
“Now, Lady Chapelstone, I wish to bestow upon you the honour of the title of Crown Inventor. Will you accept?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I most certainly will.”
BOOK TWO
LADY RUTH AND THE PARISIAN THIEF
1
“There, I believe it’s finished,” Ruth said as she stood back from her workbench.
Michel and Ivy stepped forward to get a better look.
“It’s so... small,” Ivy commented.
“I believe that is the point,” Michel replied.
“But does it work?”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “Oh ye of little faith,” she said before pressing the button atop the mechanical spider.
It immediately started scuttling around the table, taking stock of its environment.
“Well, I suppose now we know that the smaller aether core prototype works,” Michel commented.
“Yes,” Ruth agreed. “Though now it’s a case of scaling up my projects to see how powerful the smaller one truly is.”
“So, what does this contraption actually do?” Ivy asked, folding her arms. “Besides look disconcertingly like a real spider?”
Ruth sighed. “It can do anything you need it to.”
“Which will probably be espionage,” Michel ventured.
Ivy frowned. “I thought you didn’t want any of your inventions being used by the military.”
Ruth shrugged. “I’m not particularly fond of the idea, but I can live with them being used for information gathering. Though, I had thought of them as more of a tool. You know, to get into those difficult to reach spots in engines and the like.”
“Well, I suppose the strength of your inventions is their versatility.”
“Is that a compliment for you or me?” Michel joked, his ceramic face plates quirking up into a little smirk.
“Both, I think,” Ruth told him with a smile before turning back to Ivy. “And what about you? How is your navigational system coming along?”
“Nothing is currently on fire, so that’s a good thing. Probably.”
They heard a knock on the door downstairs.
“That will be your ride,” Ivy said. “I’ll let them in while you clean up.”
Ruth nodded as Ivy left the room, quickly looking over herself in the mirror she had taken to keeping there so that Michel could practice facial expressions.
Her dark hair was falling out of its clip into a ruffled mess over her pale skin, framing her dark eyes as much as the red marks from her goggles. She had taken to wearing fewer skirts through necessity. With the three of them in the workshop at all times, they mostly just got in the way, not to mention the fire hazard. Her dress that day was a sky blue colour, which was only saved from stains by her leather apron. She had been careful, knowing that the Queen would most likely send for her. She hadn’t wanted to change before seeing her.
Once Ruth had made sure that she looked at least vaguely presentable, she lowered her hand to the workbench, allowing the mechanical spider to climb up her arm.
“My Lady,” the young man at the door - Peter, she remembered - greeted as she made her way downstairs. “Queen Victoria wishes to see you.”
“I thought she would,” Ruth said. Her meetings with the Queen, to go over how Ruth was faring as the Crown’s Inventor and to see what uses her newest inventions might have, had never been explicitly scheduled, but it had quickly become clear that the meetings were always on the first of the month. “Let’s head off then.”
RUTH SPENT THE CARRIAGE ride over to the palace looking over the little mechanical spider in her hands, considering different ways in which she could improve upon the design. It helped her to forget the bumpy road beneath her, though she found a headache forming as the carriage stopped.
She had never been good with travel.
Peter jumped out to open the door for her, as he always did. She waited patiently, knowing that it was polite, even if it would have quicker for her to open the door herself.
“Thank you, Peter,” she said as she climbed down, the little spider climbing up to her shoulder to free up her hands.
Peter walked with her to where Queen Victoria was waiting. Ruth was used to the Queen’s cold glares at this point, but the one she found herself under as she entered the room was particularly frosty.
“Ma’am?” Ruth asked, feeling a little on edge.
“I have just received word from our French ambassador.”
Ruth blinked at the pregnant pause. “About?” she eventually asked, wondering what was going on.
“Mechanical men, apparently. Much like your Michel. The word around Paris is that they have been wandering the streets.” The Queen gave her a measuring look. “No one else has even been close to developing mechanical men, as far as my intelligence tells me. Now, I will only ask you this once: have you sold or given the plans for Michel to anyone else?”
“No-” Ruth started, but cut herself off. “James got a look at the plans before I locked them away. But he can’t have had that good of a look at them. And he was never the most mechanically minded individual.”
“Locked away?”
“In Thomas’ safe. He always kept my plans there until he could sell them. Not that he had any intention of selling the plans for Michel to anyone but James, but that was the first time he didn’t intend to sell them.”
“And the plans are definitely still there?”
“I... I don’t know. We haven’t had the need to put anything in the safe since I started working for you.”
“You went home to Newcastle for a week two months ago. Have you checked the safe since then?”
“I don’t know. Thomas might have.”
“Then Peter will return to your home and check.”
THE WAIT FOR PETER to check the safe was excruciating. The Queen mostly ignored Ruth, focusing on her other work instead, but Ruth still felt as if she was taking up far too much space. Her discomfort certainly wasn’t helped by her feeling the guards’ eyes on her.
When Peter finally returned, it was with Michel in tow.
“Ruth?” he asked as he approached. “What’s going on? Peter said that someone was building more mechanical men like me.”
She nodded, feeling much better now that he was here, but didn’t have a chance to answer before Peter spoke.
“Your Majesty, the safe was empty when we got there. It showed signs of tampering.”
The Queen nodded before turning to face Ruth. “I want to believe that you were not involved in this, but what I believe isn’t quite relevant right now. It is important that we shut down this operation, whatever it is, as quickly as possible and retrieve your plans. I can’t send an occupation force to France, only a few of my best people. They will be most likely to succeed if you are with them. If you can help them to retrieve the plans and stop the production of these mechanical men, then we shall forget that this incident ever occurred.”
“You would let her leave the country?” Michel asked, a little disbelieving.
“Under the watch of Captain Hall, yes. I trust him not to let her out of his sight.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Ruth agreed. “I’ll find the plans and stop whoever is creating more mechanical men.”
2
“I’m coming with you,” Thomas insisted as Ruth packed her things.
“And me,” Ivy agreed.
“I had thought that my going was a given,” Michel added, seeming a little thrown by what he was supposed to add to the conversation.
Ruth was too busy hurriedly - and badly - folding her skirts to tell him that contribution wasn’t necessary.
“Ruth, I’m being serious,” Thomas said, ignoring the others. “You cannot go to Paris alone. You know that you can’t.”
“I wouldn’t be alone,” she bit back, riling at his underestimation of her. “The Queen is sending me with one of her best captains.” She declined to mention that Captain Hall was mostly there to make sure she didn’t try to hide abroad.
“Well, I’m going with you,” Ivy said. “I’ve never been abroad before and I have always wanted to see Paris.”
Ruth couldn’t help but smile at that. At least Ivy wasn’t trying to chaperone her. “Well, far be it from me to stand in front of your dream,” Ruth said as she finished packing her clothes, closing her suitcase.
“I am going as well,” Michel told her. “These mechanical men - however they have bee
n created - are like me. They are, for all intents and purposes, my siblings. I can’t think of a better reason to be there.”
“I had assumed you would want to come,” Ruth assured him.
Thomas gave a frustrated sigh, folding his arms. “Your mother will kill me if I don’t go with you.”
“Then I shall mourn you with a heavy heart,” she said, completely deadpan.
“That was sarcasm,” Michel interjected, having only just recently mastered the concept.
“Yes, I am aware,” Thomas told him before turning back to Ruth. “Please, Ruth. I was the one in charge of keeping the plans safe. I feel... responsible.”
She nodded, finally accepting his reason. “You should all start packing if you wish to accompany me,” she told them. “Peter is taking us to Captain Hall’s airship in an hour.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You in an airship? Dear Lord...”
THE CARRIAGE JOURNEY to the airship alone had Ruth forming a headache, which did not bode well for the journey to Paris. The journey wouldn’t actually be that long - technically, it was shorter than the trip to Newcastle - but Ruth had never travelled well and air travel always came with the possibility of turbulence.
“Lady Chapelstone, I assume?” a rather gruff looking man asked as he approached. By his uniform, Ruth assumed that he was Captain Hall. He had an Italian look about him, with dark hair, olive skin, and a rather pronounced nose. As she got a better look, she realised that he was younger than his scars made him look, not more than a few years older than Thomas at most.
“That’s right,” Ruth said.
“I’m Captain Hall,” he greeted. “Her Majesty has briefed you on the mission, correct?”
“Get the plans back and stop whoever is manufacturing more mechanical men. That about sums it up as far as I’m aware.”
“Well, yes, I suppose it does. I don’t suppose you have any ideas on how to go about that?”
Ruth stopped up short as Michel stepped forward.
