by P M Cole
There was no reply.
I walked forward to the centre of the chimney.
“Now what…” I said under my breath and waited for what was about to happen, but nothing did.
“When’s the next lesson start?” I shouted.
“It already has!”
Her voice was distant, muffled. I spun around, trying to get a fix on where she was, then spotted her far away to my right on top of another chimney.
How did she get over there?
“I took the liberty of removing your ladder. So, there’s no way back down.”
My initial shock at her revelation was quickly eclipsed by determination. I walked to the edge and looked down at the roof of the Factory some forty feet below.
Pretty sure I couldn’t survive the impact of that kind of fall.
“What are you waiting for! Get over here!”
“I can’t fly!” I shouted at the distant woman.
“You don’t need to!”
I looked around me for a solution, then down at the iron grating.
Maybe I can make a grappling hook and throw it…
I looked at the band on my wrist, calculating how much twine was there.
Not enough. And I wasn’t sure Charlotte wanted me laying waste to the chimney coverings. I looked around again. I noticed she was gone from the other chimney, only billowing smoke, rising from the top, being visible. But then I also noticed… the ladder on the side of it. If it was like the one I had used to climb up, then it was also iron.
But it was forty feet away.
I raised my hand towards it and concentrated. The chill wind was getting stronger and I fell back a little before regaining my footing.
“Come on! Haven’t got all day!” came Charlotte’s voice beyond the gap.
I cursed not having my helmet. Its lens would have allowed me to see the ladder more clearly, but as it was, I had no idea if it was moving at all from this distance.
“No one's coming for you, Cog. Looks like you are going to be up there all day and night…”
“Ugh!”
I fixed my eyes on the metal railings and slats of the ladder and quelled my frustration, taking long deep breaths. Then I reached out once again, picturing the ladder bending and twisting in my mind.
A clunk rang out from the wall of the other chimney and puffs of dust fell to the roof as the ladder leaned back from its fixings. I could feel its weight…
“It’s… too… heavy….” I strained to control its mass as it swayed back and forth, the wind buffeting me and it. The sound of iron warping filled the air.
“You are the embodiment of a god, young lady… you can do this…” Charlotte’s words felt much closer, almost as if they were inside my mind.
I redoubled my focus and the ladder straightened.
“Good… now raise it…”
The wind had stopped, or at least that’s how it seemed as I felt separated from space and time, everything moving slower than it should be around me. The ladder rose higher and higher, above the level that I was standing on, and then slowly descended, the closest end resting against the grating near my feet while the other end did the same on the other chimney.
I let out a breath which I hadn’t realised I was holding.
“Good!” shouted Charlotte from somewhere on the other chimney. “Now come across!”
I looked at the ladder, balancing precariously. “Why couldn’t I have inherited the power to fly…” Placing my boot on the ladder, which creaked a little, I applied my weight and stepped onto the metal steps.
Seems pretty solid.
“Get a move on!”
I frowned and took a second step, then a third. The wind blew hard across me, but I kept my hands outstretched and moved faster and faster, until finally, I hopped off onto the other chimney. I did it! I took a deep breath, facing away from the smoke, happy to have completed the task. “Where are you?” I shouted into the smog.
“Over here!” I turned back to the chimney I had just come from, and just in time to see Charlotte kicked the ladder off the ledge it was on, and tumble to the roof below, smashing against the tiles.
“Why did you do that?!” I shouted back to her.
“Sorry, Cog, that wasn’t the test… this is… I hope you succeed.”
I screwed up my face in confusion. “Then… what is the—” A noise came from above me, I recognised it instantly. The flapping of large wings.
I instinctively ducked, spinning around to face back into the centre of the grating, although there was so much smoke billowing from below it was hard to know which way that was.
A heavy thud struck the grating beneath my feet, knocking me backwards towards the edge. I teetered on the rim of the chimney until I managed to lean forward and stepped onto the metal surface.
A Fury? I have to fight a Fury? Why is there a—
The smoke cleared to reveal my foe. No Fury. It was worse. Standing at least a few feet taller, this creature had an extended neck with a snake like head, and huge wings which extended far beyond its muscular arms.
“Err…” I quickly looked back to the other chimney. “You want me to fight this—” The thing started clambering towards me, anger in its eyes while its wings beat.
I knew its intention, and I wasn’t going to be brought aloft into the sky once again, as the Fury did. I waited until it was almost upon me. The serpent screeched, the talons on the end of its hands swiping through the smoke-filled air, trying to grab me, but I ducked and rolled to the side, only just managing to stay on the roof.
The creature kept on going for a few feet, beating the air with its wings and hovering, turned and lunged again. I leapt to my feet and surged into the smoke leaving the beast blind to my whereabouts. I thought about firing off a volley of crossbow bolts, but I wanted my position to remain hidden.
The floor shuddered again as the winged serpent touched down upon it, which gave me an idea.
I stepped backwards slowly to the edge of the area, then relaxed my thoughts feeling the iron rivets and beams in front of me. They vibrated. The thing was coming towards me.
“Over here!” I shouted into the smoke.
The creature roared and the thundering beneath my boots increased. I located it within the mist and with a surge of concentration raised my hands. As I did iron nuts and screws popped loose and the floor, some yards off, also rose, the edges rising faster.
A wing crashed into the metal wall which was now encasing the creature, it screeched and tore at the other sides growing around it, but I kept my concentration, quickly sealing the cage above its head.
The metal prison clanged and shook as the demon tried to escape, but it was to no avail.
Clapping came from behind me, which I thought was odd as I was already on the edge of the chimney. I carefully turned around on the few feet of grating still attached.
Charlotte was leaning out of the cab of the dirigible. “Nice work, you didn’t even have to kill it.” Her lips moved in silence as she gazed upon the creature, then the ground shook for a final time, and I turned just in time to see the creature be engulfed in a ball of flame, leaving the cage empty.
“Back to where you came from, demon,” she said.
I stood proud, a smile upon my face.
“You’re not done just yet.”
I sighed. “Another test?”
She smiled. “That’s enough for today, but I need you to restore the grating to how it was before you tore it in half. Magic users clean up their messes.”
*****
I wandered the avenues within the magical bazaar which Charlotte presided over. It was almost closing time, and the stall owners were shutting up for the day.
‘Go downstairs. I have things to do. Don’t get into any trouble!’ Were her words rattling around my head as I strolled the network of alleys which divided the various floors.
I found myself once again near the stall which sold the automatons. The owner was looking frustrated by something in her hand. W
ith an outburst of anger, she threw the strange-looking clump of metal into a large barrel. Curiosity getting the better of me, I approached and looked down upon the heap of bits and pieces of forgotten toys. At the top, two large eyes sparkled in the shadows. I reached in and pulled out an almost life-size, toy owl. It appeared to be made from brass, copper, and tin, looking orange gold in colour. I ran my hands over the articulated wings, a head that swivelled, and legs and talons that could move back and forwards until I found a door on the rear which opened, revealing its internal cogs and levers. I was suddenly taken by thoughts and designs that ran through my head like a series of photographic images, each one showing me how this owl could be so much more than just a toy.
The stall owner reappeared from the back. “It doesn’t work,” she grumbled.
“What do you want for it?” I hoped her answer would be close to nothing as I only had one shilling left in a side pocket, in my suit.
“Are you deaf? It ain’t no use to anyone. It’s not working.” She nodded towards the barrel. “That’s the scrap bin. It’s all going to be melted down.”
I plucked the silver coin from my pocket and held it up. “I’ll give you this.”
The woman looked confused. “I ain’t taking any returns, cos you’re thick and don’t listen. Right?”
I nodded and held my hand out.
She shrugged and took the coin.
I quickly made my way back upstairs and told Charlotte I’m leaving, and I’ll be back tomorrow. After informing me of my next lesson, she returned to her duties of overseeing the Factory and I covered myself with a cloak she had given me and left, being once again swallowed up by the fog on the streets.
During the walk back to Holborn, I managed to blend in with those that were leaving their jobs in the city, catching the omnibuses and trains back to the outer districts. By time I walked into the alleyway behind the shop, it was dark, and I had to fumble around to find the sewer entrance, not wanting to be seen entering the building from the surface.
I looked through the iron bars on the sewer wall into my basement home for any sign of movement, and not seeing any, pulled on the weight, opening the wooden door, and slipped inside. I turned on the gaslight and the devastation brought upon my home lay before me as it had done some weeks prior. After Mr Gladwell’s passing, I had not had the strength of mind to clean up, only being able to do the rooms on the ground floor. I placed my bag on the floor and concentrated my mind on the chaos around me.
A metal disc started to shake, then some springs, then nails. Pieces slid across the floor while others took to the air, looking for a place to rest. I then had the idea to use my ability to control the metal to move the wooden pieces and the leather that lay scattered around.
Soon the room in front of me was an orchestra of items flying through the air. I ducked as I used a metal plate to carry pieces of clocks to where they used to be on the walls while screws in my work desk did their best to drive the legs and top back together. I started to grow tired, but I continued the flurry of organising until the last items fell upon my worktop's surface, and I, in turn, sat heavily on my bed.
I wanted to get up and start work on the project in my bag, but instead I lay back and let sleep take me.
CHAPTER NINE
I awoke with a start, and immediately pulled a blanket over me. Despite my cloak and suit, the chilled air in the basement had made its way into my bones, and small puffs of white mist emanated from my mouth. I sat up dreary eyed. My room looked something close to how it used to, but the walls were still bare which bothered me. I looked at the stairs. I had not ventured up them since I came back. The rooms above me were devoid of life, and getting the fire started was not advisable due to the light and then smoke which would appear. I stood and walked to my worktop and the thermometer which was still mostly in one piece. It said it was below freezing, confirming what my skin was telling me.
I walked to my single gas lamp and held my hands close to the glass, trying to siphon off any leftover heat. If I was going to work down here again, I needed to be warm. I turned the gas supply off, tracing the pipes, then set about remodelling the network across the walls, until a short while later I had four gas lamps around the room. With more light and heat, the thermometer was already moving above freezing. Perfect.
I picked up my bag, brought the owl out, and placed him on the table. Something about the strange little toy spoke to me. Maybe it was seeing the dirigibles flying free, without strings or the mechanical head, but when I looked upon the automaton, I saw more than just a collection of cogs and springs.
I closed my eyes. Visions from my first visit to Wraith manor came back to me, unexplainable devices, constructed of thousands, no millions of parts while electricity ran through paths so small, they could not be seen with normal sight. Craft that charged across the land, and floated amongst the clouds, and machines that looked human accept they were mechanical in nature. All of this came back, and I opened my eyes knowing exactly what I wanted to do with this owl of mine. I looked around the room, grabbing some parts of old clocks while other items floated onto the table just because I knew I needed them. Tools, large and small, also gathered with the pieces, and I set to work.
The hours passed. Minuscule parts, which I could only see with the help of lenses, came together with cogs equally as intricate. I could feel the construction becoming whole in my mind without needing to think it, and when the parts were too small to be manipulated by my hands, my abilities took over, melting the metals into a network of tiny channels, all forming something that couldn’t be constructed through normal human means.
Finally, it was done, and I was ready to test the thing that I had created. ‘Thing’ was the best I could describe it as, because I knew of no other like it. On the outside it looked similar to how it was before, but inside it was something else… something…
I waited for it to move, but instead it remained stubbornly still.
“But it was the correct des—”
Sparks flew from the back of the little owl while the lights around me momentarily dimmed. Its head spun around a hundred and eighty degrees, and its small beak opened producing a tiny chirp.
I sat in frozen excitement. Its wings flapped and it hopped forward, almost as if it was equally curious about me.
“Hello?”
I went to chastise myself for talking to an automaton, when it chirped in reply. A series of quick short tones, intermingled with longer ones… a stream of… letters…
It was Morse code, a language I had learned on the street. The urchins used it as a means of communication sometimes. Somehow, I had built this mechanical animal with the ability to talk in dots and dashes, and it had just replied… I quickly added the letters together in my mind.
“H…e…l…Ha!”
I clapped. In response its wings beat faster and faster, so quick I could not see them until it was hovering a foot from the table top…
“You can fly?”
‘Y…e…s.’
It took off to my left, almost flying into the wall above my bed, then curved around the confined space and flew back across me to the right.
“Hey slow down, you’ll crash!”
It clattered into the wall, almost doing as I'd suggested It might, then swooped back down upon the worktop, skidding to a stop, and chirped again, its head spinning.
I still had no idea what it was, for it appeared to act independently. I stretched out my hand, and gently picked it up, it chirped again.
‘Y…o…u…M…a…d…e…M…e…?’
I looked down at its glass multifaceted eyes. “Yes.”
‘W…h…o…?’
“Err… I’m Cog…”
‘C…o…g…’
“That’s correct…"
I suddenly realised something. “How are you even understanding me?” I laughed and put him back down. “How do you even understand anything?”
Chirps, head spins, wings flapping. ‘M…a…c…h�
�i…n…e…H…e…a…d.’
“But… you are alive… or something…”
‘A…l…i…v…e.’
“But I made you, you can’t be alive… you’re a machine!”
My excitement at my creation was tinged with confusion. Did I make a thinking machine? Some of the things I saw in my visions appeared to be acting by themselves, acting human almost. So maybe it was possible. I shook my head but couldn’t help but smile at the cute self-thinking toy in front of me, which was now looking at parts of clocks scattered across the table.
“What should I call you…”
The mechanical bird’s head spun around to look at me.
’N…a…m…e…?’
“Yes… umm… I will call you—”
A scuffling came from the sewer just outside, instinctively the owl hopped around to face the door, and started to chirp while I raised my hands and nails took to the air, all pointed in the same direction.
The wooden door slid back, and Colin’s head appeared. The nails dropped to the floor.
“There you are!” he shouted as he crawled through the gap. The bird continued to speak, but it was an anomaly I was in no mood to explain, so I grabbed an upturned wooden box and set it down upon it.
“Shhh…” I said and it quietened.
Colin stood. “Why you talking to a box?”
“No… no… just…” I couldn’t think of any reason why I would be telling an empty box to be quiet. “Just…”
He stepped closer, his expression lacking any humour. “Where have you been?”
I looked back to the parts on the table, preferring to not meet his gaze. “At the Factory, Charlotte has been training me.”
“Training you? So you can run off in the middle of the night again to fight monsters?”
I looked away. “I had to learn more about my mother. Finlay had that knowledge.”
“Why won’t you let me help you?”
I sighed and looked back at him. “You can, but sometimes I need to do things alone.”
He frowned, then went to talk again, when a rattling came from the box, drawing his attention. He looked confused and walked towards it. I jumped in his way.
