Scattered around him, he found his short sword, pistol, and war hammer. Good enough for a minor squabble, but there were at least twenty men on horses and forty more on foot around the fort. Word of Erlichman’s death had obviously spread. The men on foot were doing unspeakable things to both living and dead soldiers who wore Atomico’s colors.
The closest dog pricked up his ears and looked in Uriah’s direction. Though he knelt behind a tree, he knew the dog already had him. Training, experience, and discipline kicked in and he levered his tortured body into motion.
He sprinted straight for the dog and the horsemen following it. In the darkness, the men couldn’t see Uriah yet and a man running straight at it seemed to confuse the dog. By the time it decided to start barking, it only managed a single bay.
The short sword dispatched the poor beast as cleanly as he could and he sprinted hard at the two riders. Both reached for guns as the moonlight revealed Uriah charging them. He threw the sword, spearing the first man through the sternum. The rider fell from the saddle without a sound, but the second man called out an alarm as he swung a rifle around.
Grabbing the rifle barrel, Uriah twisted the man out of the saddle. He landed on top of Uriah, making his battered ribs scream in protest. He heard other horsemen charging their way and he wanted badly to be out of there, but the downed rider had other ideas. He forced the barrel of the rifle slowly toward Uriah’s face.
The moonlight gleamed off the war hammer as it looped up and back down. It smashed teeth, and tore lips to ribbons. Grabbing the back of the soldier’s collar, Uriah raised the hammer to finish him. Maybe it was the pathetic mewling sound of the wounded man, or the memory of the destruction in Erlichman’s office, but Uriah suddenly had a belly full of killing.
He pushed the man away, leaped onto his horse, and rode.
Through whipping branches, shallow creeks, and muddy bogs, him and the thundering horse both covered in muck from the splashing. He rode and rode until he no longer heard pursuers and then he rode some more.
He stopped in a high mountain pass and walked the winded horse for a long time, allowing it to slowly cool down. And allowing Uriah plenty of time to think. Somewhere along the way, he decided he’d had enough. Enough destroying beautiful things in the name of power and greed, enough living under that pressure cooker of a mountain waiting for Professor Atomico’s other bastard children to kill him.
His mind kept coming back to one thing. The sole reason he couldn’t simply keep riding.
Delilah.
He stopped at a clear mountain creek to let the horse drink and a plan popped into his head. A crazy plan, but then Atomico didn’t get where he was by not trying crazy things. Like father, like son.
Uriah mounted up and rode to what would most likely be his death. By the time he arrived at Professor Atomico’s mountain, the sun had spanned the sky and set again. He’d left the mountain at sunset to do bloody work. It seemed only right to be home at the same hour, set to do bloody work one last time.
Instead of being sneaky, he simply strolled past the first guard he saw. After all, he lived here. On his way up to the aerodrome, he even accepted a congratulatory slap on the back, accompanied by “Damn, I heard you were dead.”
• • •
Professor Atomico found his clockwork daughter deep in the mountain’s base, in the area where his specialized force lived. A hollow cavern with real wooden barracks built inside, the whole affair lit up brilliantly by his steam-powered electrical lighting system.
Tired, his mind abuzz with formulas for new explosives, designs for weapons, and oddly enough, tax rates for his new empire, Atomico rubbed his aching neck and wondered if this was what real fathers dealt with.
If only he hadn’t wound her timer again. If only he’d let it run out in his office, she would never have known Uriah was dead. He would have had to rebuild her brain from scratch, of course. Trying to pry Uriah out of her various memories without changing who she was would be impossible. Here he was worrying about the feelings of a machine again, which was much more than he’d ever afforded any human in his life.
Delilah couldn’t cry, but her face showed him her heartbreak.
“What are you doing down here? We should go up to the aerodrome and look at the stars,” he said.
“I want to talk to them. About Uriah,” she said.
“These men... are not like Uriah, my dear.”
“I know they don’t like me. I know they don’t understand what I am. But I still need to know,” Delilah said.
“What, child?”
“How he died.”
Atomico offered her a tired smile. “Bravely, if I know our Uriah. From what I’ve been told, he traded his life for Erlichman’s.”
He knew, of course. The boys had told him Jezebel and Uriah argued over her cutting off Gerhardt’s finger, how they fought and accidentally fell out of the rescue scoop.
Tripe, of course, the whole story. But he’d deal with it later.
He put a hand on Delilah’s arm. “Let us leave, Delilah. Perhaps we should go to Uriah’s quarters, make sure his things are in order.”
He was the most powerful man in the West, soon to be the world, and his words felt weak and ineffectual. Hollow.
Shouting started from the barracks, distracting them both from the conversation.
A scream of pain like he hadn’t heard since fighting in Africa told Professor Atomico this was no small squabble among the boys. He hurried from the passage to see a sight both terrible and magnificent.
• • •
Bandoliers of grenades across his chest, Uriah stood over Horatio with a bloody sword in one hand and his war hammer in the other. Horatio screamed and screamed as he held the stump of his right elbow.
Uriah had come upon them cooking dinner under an exhaust shaft and everyone was scrambling for weapons. He caught George reaching for a shotgun and brought the war hammer down hard, cracking George’s skull.
Edward screamed in rage and racked a round into his own shotgun. Smooth, quick, like a snake born to strike, Uriah drew his pistol and shot Edward through the throat.
Herod drew his own pistol, but jerked the trigger in panic and pulled his shot wide. Uriah spun and fired. The round caught Herod above the right eyebrow. He fell like a stone and lay there twitching.
A sound to the right made Uriah swivel around.
Sifu Li appeared from a side passage like a wiry spirit drawn to war. He had only a sword in his hand. “Are you man enough to face me with a blade?”
“Well, sure. You and my father made me that man,” Uriah said. “But I’m a lot like my father, as well. I don’t take chances.” Uriah fired his pistol.
Sifu Li went down, clutching his right thigh.
Atomico stepped into the open, his hands spread. “Enough!”
Uriah glared at him over the pistol’s sights.
“Why are you doing this, Uriah? Have I not treated you like my own son?”
“You mean like a tool you discard once you get your use from it?” Uriah cocked his gun.
“Uriah, please don’t.” Silver bells struck by angels.
With those three words, his blood rage disappeared. The arm holding his gun suddenly felt heavy and he dropped it to his side. When Delilah stepped into view, his world became small, consisting only of him and her. He shook himself out of it. There was still work to do if he wanted them to have a chance.
The tromping of boots in the passageway set him into motion. Uriah put his pistol to Atomico’s head as the first armed soldiers came into view.
“Back away,” the Professor said.
Delilah put her hands up, pleading. “Uriah, please.”
He looked at her beautiful face and delicate green eyes. “Will you come away with me? Right now?”
She cocked her head to one side and everything went silent...
“Yes.”
Uriah’s heart leaped and he shoved Atomico up the passageway before him. “Then follow m
e. If everyone cooperates, I won’t hurt anyone else.”
The Professor looked nervous. For the first time, his calculations hadn’t seen something coming. “Uriah, why are you doing this? I know something happened out there. Between you and Jez, but why?”
“You had a chance to stop the infighting, the constant backstabbing. But you didn’t listen. What you want is all that matters. People are lowly things you use to help you obtain your desires. I’m through. I’ve murdered enough people for you. Now shut up and move.”
The three of them progressed along the passageway, taking the rising fork, up toward the aerodrome. Atomico’s soldiers followed them, their numbers growing by the second.
Professor Atomico found some of his fatherly calm. He spoke in soothing tones. “Uriah, please help me understand. Do you feel as if I have done wrong by you?”
“You and I have both done nothing but wrong,” Uriah said.
The old man had no response. The steady climb was taking its toll on him. He didn’t have a young man’s legs and his breathing showed it.
Uriah peeked back and saw Delilah quietly following them. She didn’t say anything, just listened. He had to force himself to look away from her, to focus. A few more minutes, that’s all they needed.
Atomico knew Uriah’s heart. “She is hard to look away from, isn’t she? I made her just for you.”
“Shut up.”
Delilah caught up and kept pace with them. “No, what does he mean, ‘for you?’”
Atomico slowed as they reached the end of the passage. The cold air coming in from the aerodrome gave him a bit of relief. He turned and saw a parade of armed men and women behind them. He ignored them and looked into Uriah’s eyes.
“I wanted you to be happy, to know love.”
“Bull. You wanted a way to control me, like you do everyone else around here,” Uriah said. He shoved the old man into the open air and pushed him down behind the rocky opening of the tunnel. Gently, he guided Delilah behind a large rock as well. Unhooking the bandolier of grenades, he pushed the plungers on four and tossed the whole thing back down the passageway. Sounds of panic echoed from the tunnel, but he’d given them plenty to time to get clear. His goal wasn’t to kill soldiers.
The explosion spewed dust and chunks of rock out of the tunnel’s opening and Uriah had to hold Delilah to keep her from falling down.
Once the dust settled a bit, he saw the tunnel had collapsed nicely. It would take hours to dig through, and by then he and Delilah would be long gone.
“Let’s go, ‘Poppa.’” Uriah directed Professor Atomico toward the end of the airfield where the Black Mariah was moored.
Atomico saw she had full steam and stood battle ready. “You’ve been home for longer than I suspected. You really are a clever boy. I do wish you’d believe me. I had nothing to do with whatever happened out there, Uriah.”
“That was just a wakeup call for me. It’s so much more than my experience. I don’t want to help you be a destroyer of worlds. Let’s go, Delilah. I’ll give you a hand up the ramp.”
He smiled and guided her into the Mariah’s cockpit. She stopped— “Uriah, the key.”
Uriah realized Atomico’s brain had leaped ahead, as usual. The key hung from a silver chain in his hand. “Stay with me and the key is yours, Uriah. You can do whatever you like with it. You can even give it to her.”
“We’ll find another key,” Uriah said.
“Not like this one. It’s made of a special metal. Her inner mechanism needs that contact or it won’t work,” Atomico said.
Uriah pointed his pistol at the old man’s head. “Give me the key.”
Atomico shrugged. He whipped the chain around and threw it off the side of the mountain. Uriah screamed in rage and clipped the old man on the head with his pistol. The metallic click of the hammer going back signaled Atomico’s final moments.
“No.” Once again, the musical tones of her voice stopped him. Delilah smiled at Uriah and said, “We’ll find someone. He didn’t think of me on his own, he needed help. We’ll find the same kind of man he found. A man with a Difference Engine.”
For the first time, Uriah saw a weak, spiteful old man where his powerful master had once been. He holstered his gun and released the mooring line.
“You may one day rule the world, but it won’t be with my help,” Uriah said. He left Professor Atomico lying on the aerodrome deck, a peculiar little grin on his face.
“The prodigal son always returns, my boy. It’s his destiny.”
• • •
The pink edge of the sky signaled the coming dawn. Uriah rubbed his eyes and checked their heading. The gleaming clockwork fairy he took from Erlichman’s fort lay on the instrument panel. Its delicate workings had taken a beating in his adventures and he feared it would never work again.
“Nonsense,” Delilah said. “We’ll find someone to fix her.”
Uriah smiled and touched Delilah’s perfect face.
“You do that a lot. Touch my face.”
“I like it. Do you... ever want to touch my face?” Uriah said.
“Would you like me to?”
He desperately wanted to shout Yes, but he couldn’t bring himself to even whisper it, afraid if she complied, it would only be coded actions from the Professor and not genuine.
Her melodious voice drove the worry from his mind, and they talked and talked in the hours they had left. The words spoken didn’t even matter to Uriah. The lilting ring of her voice cut him off from everything else, narrowed his world until there was only her.
Delilah.
When she “fell asleep,” Uriah strapped her safely into a seat next to the pilot’s wheel.
Flying toward the horizon, he thought this must be his destiny, his punishment after all the hurt he’d caused, for bringing a world-beating power to a man like Professor Atomico. His heart would ache and ache for her with no respite. He likely deserved that and much more.
Still, he flew on, hoping against hope to find another genius with a Difference Engine. Someone who might be familiar with the inner workings of a clockwork girl.
A Word from Michael Ezell
I am a former US Marine and ex-cop from Southern California. Currently, I work as a project coordinator for an Emmy-winning makeup effects shop.
My fiction has appeared in several anthologies, as well as On Spec Magazine. My most recent story, "Bare-knuckle Magic" will appear in Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show in February 2018.
For more info on my work, go to my Amazon author page, or follow me on Twitter @SinisterEz
DJINN 2.0
BY JESSICA WEST
DJINN 2.0
BY JESSICA WEST
SEREN’S AURAL FORM cast a soft, amber glow on the white walls as she glided down the hall. Though she was much more comfortable in her physical body, she couldn’t fly in that form. As she approached the entrance she sought, she glanced at each fine line outlining a room’s doorway. She passed several that gave off warm glows that ranged from browns to reds to oranges. These gave way to yellows, then to greens and finally blues.
If her mother’s coloring hadn’t been so distinct, she might have had to search each chamber until she found the right one. As it was, only two sozarians could claim that perfect shade of lightest blue. Her mother—the sozarian ruler—and one of her many sisters. That she, the eldest, hadn’t inherited her mother’s coloring irked her to no end.
She shifted into her physical form—similar to the K’Gaons humanlike shapes, but without the beastly lower half and the great horns of the males—and pressed her palm flat against the center of the door.
Seren entered her mother’s chambers, approached her bed, and knelt on the soft, violet cushion before it.
Her mother lay there in her physical form. Judging from the weak glow her aura cast, she was too weak to assume an aural form. Her time was rapidly drawing to a close.
Seren’s time was now. She began the sozarian death honor in a gentle b
ut clear voice.
“Honored elder, it is my sincerest wish you take comfort in these, your final moments, in all that you have given me in life. You’ve shared knowledge so that I might gain wisdom, patience so that I might gain persistence, and—”
“Seren, please. My final moments are few, but my words are many. I have others yet to speak with. Let us not waste time on formalities. Please, come close and listen.”
Aetha had never been a particularly affectionate sozarian, but she reached for her daughter’s hand now. In a rare moment of heartfelt love, Seren acquiesced to her mother’s unspoken wish and gripped one large, warm hand within her own.
“Seren, my beloved daughter, I had so much yet to teach you. You are far too young to assume such a great responsibility.”
“All shall be well, mother. Rest now. You’ve done everything a mother can do to prepare her daughter, and I will—”
“Please, Seren. As my time grows near, communicating becomes more difficult. And there is still so much I have left to do.”
Seren waited patiently while her mother recovered her energy. What more her mother thought she had left to do, Seren couldn’t imagine. The most important thing was officially passing on the throne to the next ruler. Oh, she understood her mother might want to say goodbye to her mates, and probably one at a time instead of all at once. Though the latter would be far more efficient, it lacked her mother’s romantic touch. Despite her lack of affection toward her daughters, she showered her lovers with all the love she’d withheld from her own kin. But romancing her mates shouldn’t be a priority, especially now. As long as Aetha had enough time and energy to communicate with Seren, the rest was just a matter of desire.
Finally, Aetha’s aura grew vibrant once again, though her soft blue glow remained just a shade beyond white.
Seren merged her own aura with her mother’s to ease the burden of communicating.
Mother, I listen.
Ha!Ha!Ha! Page 16
