by L. C. Mawson
Thomas relented at that, only giving a small groan as Ruth climbed through the window, tearing her dress a little. Normally, she was so particular about keeping her clothes in good condition, but this was not the time for such worries.
Thomas followed close behind her, but Ruth was already far ahead, inspecting the large factory machines for signs of recent use.
“Careful,” he told her. “There could be squatters.”
“Then we shall have someone to ask about the rumours of mechanical men.”
“There could also be criminals,” he muttered as he came to stand beside her. “What if they spread the rumours to keep people away? Or what if the thief is selling the mechanical men as hired henchmen for criminals?”
“Then I shall be deeply offended. Slavery is bad enough without the slaves being forced to perform illegal acts.”
“You know that many of these people will not see it as slavery. Perhaps they’re American.”
“Then I shall be even more offended. Michel is a person, so it stands to reason that his siblings will be as well.”
Any further argument from Thomas was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Ruth knocked Thomas to the ground, quickly finding that the gunman had missed.
“I think someone doesn’t want us here,” Ruth muttered as she scrambled behind one of the machines.
There were several more clanging sounds of bullets hitting the machine shielding them.
“That is perhaps an understatement,” Thomas replied, drawing a pistol of his own.
“Where did you get that?” Ruth demanded as he shot around the corner of the machine.
“You didn’t honestly think I would agree to leave the ship without some kind of weapon, did you?”
“Well, yes. Where did you learn to fire a gun?”
“Now is hardly the time. Can you make it back to the window?”
“I think so.”
“Then go. I shall cover you.”
“But we’re being shot at!”
“And we will continue to be shot at until we leave this building.”
Ruth huffed, drawing up every ounce of her courage before bolting for the window. She heard footsteps behind her and assumed that they belonged to Thomas. The sound of gunshots refused to quiet as they ran, only stopping as they made their way around the corner.
Ruth looked back at the factory, just before it vanished from sight, and saw a pair of reflective eyes watching her leave from one of the upper windows.
“I think we have lost them,” Thomas said, putting his gun away as he struggled for breath.
“The gunman was mechanical,” Ruth told him. “I’m sure of it. But the machines haven’t been functional for years. The factory isn’t being used to make them.”
“Then why post a lone gunman to protect it from intruders?”
“I don’t know. The building was so decrepit, I can’t imagine it having much use to anyone.”
“Unless it was a trap for anyone who asked too many questions about the mechanical men.”
“But how would they know that we would get the information?”
Thomas’ gaze darkened as he stormed back the way they came.
5
It took Ruth a while to realise that Thomas was storming back to Abigail’s. She had been so consumed with attempting to match his relentless pace that she didn’t recognise the streets until they were right outside the café.
Thomas violently swung the door open before storming up to the counter.
“What ever is the matter?” Abigail asked as the patrons stared.
Ruth stood awkwardly, very aware that she and Thomas looked a complete state. Their clothing was covered in dust and torn in places. Ruth’s hair had fallen from its clasp and they were both red in the face, clearly sweating from their run.
“The information you gave us led us straight into a trap,” Thomas told her.
“A trap?”
“We were assaulted by a gunman in that factory and the machines had been out of use for years. There was nothing there, and hence no reason to send us there unless it was the meet our doom at the hands of that gunman.”
“Thomas, I had no idea, you have to believe me.”
“The thing is, Abigail, I don’t know that I do. Your parents wrote you off, and you’ve been scraping by ever since. I don’t know what you would trade away to get some scrap of the life you had before.”
Abigail looked as if he had just slapped her.
“That was perhaps unnecessarily harsh,” Ruth pointed out. “After all, we have no proof that she was the source of the trap.” She turned to Abigail. “Where did you get your information? If someone is spreading false rumours, perhaps tracking them down will give us some more answers.”
Abigail indicated to the back room, clearly very aware of her patrons’ eyes on them. Ruth followed, though Thomas lingered for a moment before coming, clearly hesitant.
“One of Madam Aude’s girls gave me the information,” Abigail said in a low voice once the door had shut behind them. Thomas relaxed instantly, as if this information had explained part of Abigail’s suspicious behaviour. “She comes in here sometimes, and she told me that one of Madam Aude’s... visitors is rather loose with information regarding the mechanical men. When she told me of the rumours, she thought he was making it up. She hadn’t heard of Ruth’s Michel, so she just thought it was a fanciful tale to tell the girls.”
“And he told her that the factory was used at night?”
“He told her of the rumours and strongly hinted that they were true. I suppose he was just exaggerating.”
“Or someone else caught wind of his ramblings and decided to lay a trap for anyone inclined to investigate,” Ruth speculated.
Thomas sighed. “Then I suppose we should go to Madam Aude’s and find out who this man is. She owes me a favour.”
“Good luck,” Abigail said, very clearly aiming her words at Ruth alone.
Thomas looked sheepish at that. “Abigail, about what I said...”
“Thomas, I may have been cut off from certain luxuries, but I was also freed from their trappings. If you honestly think that I would take even the ghost of those shackles back, for any reason, then I suppose that you don’t really know me all that well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Save your apologies for someone who wants them and get out of my cafe.”
6
“I should warn you. Madam Aude’s establishment is... not a reputable one,” Thomas said as they made their way back down the Parisian streets.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that she provides a certain kind of... entertainment.”
“Please, Thomas, speak plainly.”
His face flushed bright red. “It’s a brothel,” he eventually muttered so low that Ruth had to strain to hear.
“A brothel?” she hissed back at him. “Thomas, honestly, how are you in acquaintance with the proprietor of such an establishment?”
His face started to turn positively crimson. “It can be incredibly difficult to meet certain needs when you have unique tastes,” he defended, still keeping his voice at just a whisper.
Ruth shook her head, not believing her ears.
“It’s fine for you. You don’t have to deal with such needs.”
“No, I just have to have the Queen’s favour to keep from having to marry a man I built.”
“Which is exactly why you have no room to judge.”
Ruth sighed. “Well, no, I suppose not. But, Thomas, are we heading there now? What if we are seen entering such an establishment?”
“By who? This is Paris, my dear. There is a reason I came here for my excursions, rather than staying in England.”
“I suppose that makes sense...”
Thomas’ face gradually shifted back to its regular colour as they made their way to a different part of the city. Ruth’s feet were starting to hurt from the walking, but she had yet to see a Fralsen in the streets. She wond
ered if they were exclusive to England.
“Do people always walk around the city?” Ruth asked.
“Fralsens were banned last year after an unfortunate accident. I had hoped that your rival technology would find success in markets that had rejected the Fralsens as too dangerous, but obviously that project became Michel.”
“Yes, and I’m not even sure how he gained sentience, so I would be reluctant to try to create a non-sentient mechanical mind from the same plans.”
“What about if you drew up completely different plans?”
“I’m not sure that I could sufficiently forget my original plans. And, even if I could, there would be no guarantee that a sentient mind would not eventually emerge, as happened with Michel.”
“Then I suppose it was never meant to be. Never mind, you have more than enough other ideas.”
“Not that they will be of any use if I’m executed.”
Thomas gave her a sympathetic look. “They won’t execute you. They wouldn’t dare. The amount of potential progress the British Empire would lose if you were killed...”
“Which brings us the the rather unsettling question of what they might do to keep my mind working if I am executed...”
Thomas frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well, ever since I created Michel, other inventors and scientists have been speculating what they might be able to do with the technology.”
“Beyond creating more mechanical men?”
“Well, yes, given that the Queen outlawed creating more of them. One thought has been that, if it’s possible to create a new mind, why could we not transfer one?”
“Transfer a mind?”
“Yes. From a human to a mechanical body.”
“You could live forever.”
“Think of what it would do to the line of succession.”
“Queen Victoria could live forever as a mechanical woman.”
“I honestly can’t decide how I feel about that, which is why I have always been glad that the plans had never left my hands. At least, until now. It’s not just a mechanical army, Thomas. This is the stepping stone to the next technological revolution.”
Thomas sighed, shaking his head. “And now it’s in the hands of a random thief. That is honestly terrifying.”
“Quite. I certainly hope that we can find answers in this... establishment of yours.”
“As I said, Madam Aude owes me a favour. If she knows anything, she will tell us.”
“I suppose I would be happier not knowing how you came to be in a situation where she owes you a favour?”
He took a moment to think before saying, “Yes, you probably would be.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re secretly some kind of scoundrel, aren’t you?”
He smiled. “I had some fun in my youth.”
Before Ruth could enquire into exactly what he meant by that, Thomas stopped outside a rather unassuming building.
“This is it,” he told her. “You might want to prepare yourself. The last thing we need is for you to offend anyone before we get the information we need.”
“Offend anyone?”
“Yes, with your delicate sensibilities. It would do a great deal to help if you would agree to reserve any judgement until we are back on the ship.”
Ruth frowned, a little unsettled at what she might encounter if Thomas felt that such a warning was necessary.
AS SOON AS RUTH STEPPED through the threshold, she was bombarded by a potent mix of opium and sweat that saturated the air.
“Remember what I said,” Thomas said lowly to her as they walked through the dimly lit hallway, and Ruth realised that she had been frowning.
She focused on loosening her stiff expression and posture, but it was incredibly difficult when she could hear moaning through the walls that put her on edge.
Ruth had always been fairly agnostic on the idea of other people... being intimate. It had never been something she had wanted, and definitely not something worth giving up her independence to someone else for, so she had never really thought all that much about the particulars.
Now she was being faced with them and she had to admit that it caused her skin to crawl. The idea of so much touching had her clutching at her skirts, gripping the fabric so hard that her knuckles went white, the sensation grounding her as she focused on following Thomas.
A young, well-dressed man stood waiting for them at the end of the hall.
“Thomas,” he greeted with a small smile. “I hadn’t thought to see you around here again.”
“I was in the city.”
“And you have brought a companion with you,” he noted, his eyes raking across Ruth in a way that made her feel naked despite her heavy layers. “Not to your taste, though. Tell me, ma chérie, are you here to learn of your own tastes?”
Ruth did her best not to balk. “I don’t have tastes.”
Thomas gave her a slightly disapproving look before turning back to the man. “Is Madam Aude available? I have business to discuss with her.”
The man nodded, leading Thomas and Ruth through one of the doors and up a flight of stairs. He knocked on one of the doors three times.
“Come in,” a voice called from the other side.
The man opened the door to reveal a room. It, like the rest of the establishment, was dimly lit, and was clearly for entertaining guests. Though, not for entertaining in the sense of the rest of the establishment, Ruth assumed, given the lack of bed. In all, it seemed thoroughly ordinary. As did the rotund woman wandering the room as she pinned up her curly black hair. Ruth had expected the women of the establishment to wear scandalously revealing clothing, but the woman’s light green dress could have been taken from Ruth’s wardrobe. Or, rather, a smaller version of it could have been.
“Thomas, my dear, it has been too long,” the woman - Madam Aude, Ruth assumed - said as they entered. “And you have brought a friend.”
The man who had led them in seemed to have concluded that he had finished his job, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.
“This is my niece, Ruth. Ruth, this is Madam Aude,” Thomas introduced.
“A pleasure, my dear,” Madam Aude said as she indicated for the to take a seat. “Tea?”
“Please,” Thomas replied as he and Ruth sat down on two of the chairs.
Madam Aude moved over to a teapot with an odd contraption around it. After she had filled the teapot with water from a jug, she flicked a switch on the contraption.
“So, what brings you here? I thought your trips to Paris were behind you.” Madam Aude had almost no French accent, but she still pronounced Paris without the s.
“It’s rather a long story,” Thomas began with a tired sigh as the teapot began to produce steam, the water seemingly boiling within.
“Are we short on time?” Madam Aude asked.
“Aren’t we always?”
Madam Aude smiled as she continued to make the tea. “You were always too quick-witted for your own good. A man like you should be settled down by now. You could have found a nice husband, but no. You’re too busy being clever in London.”
“Even Paris isn’t far enough away to escape the scandal if I ran off with a man.”
Madam Aude rolled her eyes. “You always cared too much for your reputation.”
“Perhaps, but that is not why I’m here. We are here to catch a thief.”
“And you came to my establishment? I know I cater to all kinds, but I do not do business with criminals.”
Ruth frowned, taking a moment to remember that brothels were legal in France. Paris truly was like a different world, even if the streets weren’t so different.
Madam Aude poured the tea that had finally finished brewing before bringing it to them.
“Thank you,” Thomas said as he took his tea. “And you may not deal with criminals knowingly, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not possible.”
Madam Aude sighed as she sat opposite them after passing Ruth h
er tea. “I suppose I must agree there.”
“I have heard a rumour that one of your visitors comes accompanied by mechanical men.”
“Now, Thomas, you know as well as anyone that I offer discretion. I can’t go around giving away private details about my customers.”
“Except he stole them!” Ruth interjected. “Or, rather, he stole the plans for them from me. No one was supposed to have that technology.”
Madam Aude regarded her carefully. “Except for you, hmm?”
“I was never going to use it. Not again. Certainly not to build slaves.”
“And it’s your right to decide how people should or should not use this technology?”
“As the one who built it, yes. If they build mechanical armies or slaves, I will be complicit.”
“And what if they built mechanical doctors? Men who could deal with plagues without the fear of becoming ill. What about dangerous work like mining? How many lives could be spared if you shared the technology?”
“How many jobs lost,” Thomas countered. “Reintroducing slave labour would ruin the economy.”
“And they would still be slaves,” Ruth countered. “Unless you let them choose their path and paid them, but no one will enforce that. Regardless, that is beside the point.”
“Is it? You want me to believe that you have been wronged to such a degree that I should violate my own code and risk my reputation to help you find justice. A thief may be on the wrong side of the law, but they may have had good reason for their theft.”
“Can you help us or not?” Ruth asked, tired of the ethics lesson.
Madam Aude took on a contemplative look.
“You owe me a favour,” Thomas reminded her.
“And you wish to use it over this?”
“Of course.”
“Then so be it. He will be here tomorrow at six.”
“Thank you.”
7
Ruth was aware that she was being particularly quiet on the walk back to the airship. Ruth had never been one for idle chat, which meant that Thomas was used to having mostly one-sided conversations. Though, as he talked on their way back, his niece couldn’t help but notice that he kept steering it in one particular direction.
