Terra Mechanica: A Steampunk Anthology

by Jay Barnson

  Marcus looked at the contents of the steaming mug.

  “The werekind has matured in you, and will be making its first appearance. It will put your mind to sleep while it reshapes your body and goes out in search of its first meal. That is, unless you drink.”

  “The tincture will block the creature’s effects on your nervous system, allowing you to maintain—or rather, compete—for control of your body.”

  Though not certain he could trust Otto, Marcus could not deny the strange new sensation growing within him. He brought the cup to his lips and allowed the bitter liquid to pass his tongue.

  “But, what is it inside of me?” Marcus finally asked. “During my courses, I read of something called a ‘virus.’ Is it of that kind? Or is it some microbe?”

  “No, my good doctor, it is neither of those.” Otto pushed his glasses further onto his nose as he poured a second cup. “While we are both men of science, my training was in engineering and physics. I cannot research the creatures as well as someone such as yourself, but I have traveled the globe studying the werekind, as best as I can, in all their varied forms.

  “They are certainly a type of organism: multi-cellular, with a nervous system and circulation like ours. They enter the host and spread themselves throughout the body. Working all manner of wonders, they can change a man’s metabolism, enhance his immunity, and even influence his growth. They do not stop there, however, for in order to feed and spawn new generations, they add to the host’s body their own organs in secret. When matured, they emerge to redesign the host’s structure, transforming him into a veritable killing machine.”

  A lump grew in Marcus’ throat as his nerves threatened to get the better of him. “But how can such a thing be stopped?”

  Otto leaned forward in his chair to look Marcus sternly in the face.

  “This is where you must be strong. The creature in you is alive—it has a mind, and it can learn. You must teach it to submit. You must be its master, or you will become its slave.”

  “But how is that possible?”

  “We will give you the tools at the right time. Now, rest, good doctor.” Otto poured a final cup of tea and sipped it himself.

  Marcus sensed the strange feeling subsiding within him, but he had no intention of resting. Apparently finished talking, Otto enjoyed the remains of the bitter tincture while resting one ankle on his knee.

  Marcus allowed the cracked, plaster wall to support his heavy head. He stared at the water stains on the ceiling and observed how they showed the outlines of the rafters above. His mind continued to turn over his future. Surrounded by kindly monstrosities, he could only wait to birth whatever manner of creature was inside of him. A sea of fear and curiosity overwhelmed his mind.

  Again, his thoughts turned to Emily. How he longed for her, how he wished for the comfort that came from her smile. His hallucinations made sense now. Certainly, the work of the thing inside him wrought the visions of his late fiancée.

  A tearing pain shot through his chest, causing him to convulse and cry out. Otto sat upright and the other guards stirred from their slumber.

  “It is moving early,” Otto said. “Gordon, please fetch the generator.”

  Marcus heard the creak of the door hinges, but the throbbing inside him consumed his attention. It felt as though his chest would explode. The throbbing turned to a steady pressure as his heart pounded in his ears. He cried out again as a tearing in his sternum began.

  With a sickening clunk, his ribs separated and expanded, somehow locking into new positions. The burning remained, but the pressure no longer pulled at his chest. He felt himself taking terribly deep breaths and wondered if it was of his own volition.

  “Oh, Emily! Emily, please,” he whimpered.

  A tender hand rested on his back.

  “Was this Emily someone important to you?” Otto asked.

  Through the pain, Marcus tried to put words to his grief.

  “My fiancée. That is where I was returning from on the train. She died in Scotland while I traveled to meet her. I—I never got to say goodbye,” he wept. It was the first time he had said the words out loud. Why the circumstances finally brought his grief to the surface, he did not know. Thankfully, the visceral pain had eased, at least for the moment.

  “Be strong, Doctor, for her memory’s sake.”

  With a knock at the door, Gordon entered, carrying a massive metal device. He bore a grave expression. The floorboards shook as Gordon dropped the machine. He immediately sought Otto’s ear for private word while Marcus pondered how the device would help him control the creature inside him.

  “Another?” Marcus heard Otto’s shocked reply. “Are they sure?”

  Gordon nodded.

  Otto rounded on Marcus. “What of this Emily, Dr. Wells? Are you certain she died?”

  “Of course,” he replied through the pain. “There was a massacre. They burned the building.”

  “And you have seen no sign of her since? Not even a glimpse that could have been her?”

  “I have had dreams, but nothing more. She died in a village outside Sterling; that’s where I was returning from on the train.”

  “Sterling,” blurted Gordon. “There’s bloody Jagerunds in them mountains.”

  Otto gripped Marcus’ arm and raised it to examine the cuff of his sleeve. It fit perfectly at his wrist, as it had always done.

  “Damn! How could I be such a fool! This is no Baurcat.”

  A deathly silence filled the room.

  “Mr. Otto, the Jagerunds are savage. They have never been tamed.” Chin backed away slowly as she spoke. Otto held his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he hunched, staring at the floor next to Marcus.

  “We cain’t do a Jagerund here, Otto. It’d ‘ave been bad enough with a Baurcat. We gotta finish him now,” added Gordon.

  “Silence!” Otto shouted. He paused a moment more before looking up. “We now have two Jagerunds to consider. We are spread too thin to handle such a feral werekind on the streets of London. We need the doctor. He can do this; I know he can!”

  Gordon begrudgingly approached and lifted Marcus into a chair. A new pain scintillated through his body while Gordon produced heavy straps and bound him in place. Otto pressed a hand firmly on his shoulder as he stooped to look directly into Marcus’ sweat-covered face.

  “Marcus, listen to me. The tincture you drank protects your mind from the beast, but it exposes you to the full pain of the change.” Marcus’ face flinched and his eyes rolled as a wave of sharp crackling tore down his spine.

  “Marcus. Your Emily is not dead.” Marcus lifted his pallid face to look at Otto. “She was not murdered—she was the murderer. Not her, but the beast inside. She is a terrible thing now, the worst of our kind, and she has passed her curse on to you.”

  A rush of memories overwhelmed Marcus’ vision. Could the park—the vision of Emily—have been real? Otto shook Marcus by the shoulders, pulling him from his revelation. His eyes refocused on the urgently pleading Otto.

  “You must succeed. You must subdue the Jagerund inside you if you want to save her, free her from her curse.”

  Working quickly, Chin finished securing Marcus to the chair and attached a strap to his arm by a large buckle. A heavy wire connected the strap to the machine. A loud thud sounded beside them as Gordon dropped a second identical device.

  “If we’re gunna do this, I thought we might s’well put both of ’em together, like we did that one time.”

  “Good thinking, Gordon,” Otto accepted a curious-looking handle from Chin. Connected to the first machine in the same manner as the strap on his arm, the handle had a mechanical lever along its length. Gordon turned a crank, and the two machines whirred to life.

  “This is a device of my own invention,” began Otto, placing the handle in Marcus’ bound hand. “When you squeeze this lever, you will both feel the pain, but the electricity will hurt the creature within more than it will hurt you. The beast will try to break you. It h
as already made room for its own lungs to breathe. You must stop it from going further. You cannot allow the transformation to complete until it has learned submission.”

  Otto continued speaking words of encouragement, but Marcus did not hear them. At that moment, a surge of pain flooded his senses, and something unnatural stirred within him.

  Marcus squeezed the handle. Every muscle, from his bicep to his hand, locked as the burning pain surged through his arm. The thing within him cringed, and he released the lever.

  The current stopped, allowing Marcus a gasping breath. The strange churning inside him paused only a moment before redoubling with vengeance. The knuckles of his empty hand dislocated as they separated from their joints. The skin of that arm became tight, and a throbbing pain burned in his fingertips as sharp claws pushed their way through.

  Another squeeze, and again the jarring jolt of electricity coursed through his arm. He could feel the thing inside him now. He could feel its hunger and rage. The change paused once more. He released the trigger.

  The thing within him resumed immediately and with force.

  Marcus clenched his fist around the handle a third time, but the surge only fueled the monster’s rage. He could feel it in his feet now. A strange pressure in his legs grew until his bones snapped. Marcus cried out and crushed the lever against the handle with all his might, but it was no use. Desperation overcame him as he looked to his companions, and the change overtook him.

  Chin backed away, her body altering as she moved, revealing bird-like legs. Her arms took on the appearance of skeletal wings. Her forearms and fingers lengthened, and again, her clawed extensions reached forward from her wrists. Gordon had already changed. His broadened body and his enlarged and clawed hands and feet gave him a savage appearance. Menacing tusks rose from below his jaw.

  Only Otto remained as he was. The small man pulled up his own sleeve and thrust his bare arm in front of Marcus’ eyes.

  “Fight, Marcus!” he shouted as he displayed the grotesque red burn scars that ran from his palm toward his shoulder. “We have all fought this battle! You must not give in!”

  A massive, unnatural arm flung Otto across the room. Marcus felt pulling against his sides as a strong hand tore away the straps that bound him. Only then did he realize that the savage limb was his own.

  Working in him with full force now, the creature pushed through the ongoing burn of the generators and the smell of burning flesh. Marcus’ skin stretched, revealing a darker hide beneath. He watched, a prisoner in his own body, and felt himself hunch over at the creature’s will. The sting of a thousand nails tore at his nerves as sharp quills broke through the skin of his back.

  The creature straightened, and Marcus’ cry mingled its roar as the bones of his face contorted and broke. The Jagerund continued its roar from its deep chest as the transformation completed, and Marcus felt its razor sharp fangs fit together in place of his own teeth.

  He could see himself towering over the others in the room. Gordon lunged at him with tooth and claw, but the hide of the Jagerund was too thick; savage teeth clamped down on Gordon. His body went limp and joined Otto in the corner where he lay, still unconscious. Chin darted around the ferocious beast. Striking with her scythe-like claws, she leapt from wall to wall.

  The flitting attacker infuriated the beast. Marcus’ new body lifted a massive generator and hurled it against the wall, where the fierce woman clung. It caved with the impact, and though Chin escaped, it was not without injury.

  Inside the beast, Marcus wept. The Jagerund reveled in its triumph. It lifted the second generator and bashed through the windowed wall to expose the clear night sky. He felt his lungs fill with cold, fresh air. As it stepped into the opening, the beast again roared in victory.

  Something caught Marcus’ eye. The Jagerund must have seen it too, for they were now staring directly at it. There, on the rooftop across the alleyway, stood a woman. The blue light of the full moon shone on her, revealing her blood-stained rags, and the tears that washed pure white streaks down her dirtied face—her beautiful, almond-shaped face.

  Emily.

  She lived.

  Despite the curse that they now shared, she was alive. What horrors had she woken to when the Jagerund within her surfaced again and again to satisfy its hunger? What despair had she felt when she failed to keep the beast away from humanity, from the ones she loved?

  Marcus snarled in hate for the parasites that now infected them both. He could not succumb. He would not succumb. Not while Emily lived, not while she needed him. He would not fail her again. Marcus fought against that other mind within him. He forced himself to tear his gaze from her. Stumbling back from the gaping hole, he fell to the floor. His brutal arms pulled his body forward, dragging him further into the room. Against the efforts of the Jagerund, he looked for Otto. The man was nowhere to be found.

  A spark flashed and crackled nearby.

  The generator.

  It still whirred by the wall where it had fallen. For the sake of his Emily, he would subdue the beast, or die trying. Marcus dragged himself closer to it. Finding the first wire, his razor sharp teeth slice through the protective coating and down into the cold, dense copper beneath.

  The creature fought against his will as he reached for the second cable. Gripping the wire in his savage claws, he took the bare metal end and drove it against his chest with all his might.

  A brilliant flash and burning pain instantly engulfed all his senses. Blowing Marcus onto his back, the surge coursed through his body like tearing, white fire in his veins. The Jagerund recoiled and cried out in agony.

  Everything stilled.

  Marcus’ ears rang. He could hear the ominous thudding of his own heart.

  Thub-dub. Thub-dub. Thub . . . thub . . . dub . . . thub . . .

  His breathing slowed. Darkness encroached. He could do nothing now. Perhaps death was better than living as a monster.

  In his final moments of consciousness, the only peace Marcus found was in the satisfying sense of fear and desperation in the werekind within him. Then the world, with all of its pain and all of its loss, gave way to emptiness, and on the floor of his prison room, Dr. Marcus Wells died.

  But the Jagerund did not know surrender.

  Thub . . . Thub . . . Thub-dub . . . Thub-dub. Thub-dub. Thub-dub. Thub-dub.

  Marcus’ heart burst back to life. Gasping, he rolled over. Immediately, the creature within him worked at his limbs, trying to move itself away from the wretched generator. Marcus quickly clamped down on the metal cord again and raised the second wire in his hand.

  A newfound terror leapt up in the monster as it gave way to his will.

  The Jagerund had saved them both. Marcus felt the heart-reviving adrenaline coursing through his body. The creature would never again risk such a challenge. Death to the host was death to the beast.

  Marcus relaxed and lay still on the floor. A painful, but relieving sensation came over him as his natural bones fit back together and found their proper places. Lying face down, he could not summon the strength to move. In the quiet, he gasped, thankful for every strained breath.

  A hand rested on his back.

  “Well done, Dr. Wells,” whispered Otto’s voice. “Sleep now, both of you.”

  For a second time he felt a pinch in his neck. A calm sensation spread throughout his body and he slipped into welcomed unconsciousness.

  Yellow light shone through the translucent ceiling panels of the train station. Marcus watched as at the far end, a pair of parting lovers embraced one another tearfully. A week ago, a reminder of such passion would have sent arrows though his fragile heart. But with the knowledge that Emily lived, nothing would hinder or sway him from saving her from her Jagerund.

  He looked to the nearest of the several crates being loaded onto the freight car beside him. It contained one of the salvaged generators, and weighed nearly 300 pounds. Stealing a glance around him to ensure no one was watching, he bent down and took hold o
f the box. Thanks to the side effects of his condition, he lifted the crate with little strain, and placed it into the freight car among the others.

  “Easy there, mate,” Gordon chided as he moved a similarly heavy crate. “Too much strain and you’ll wake up yer lil’ friend. My back’s still sore from the last time ‘e came out to play.”

  Marcus smiled at his new companion. From behind him came Otto’s terse voice. “And there would be far too many witnesses.”

  Approaching with his usual quick pace, Otto added, “As long as the general populace believes we are a myth, we will be free to continue our business and bring hope to the hundreds of souls likewise bound by our curse. Until such a time, secrecy is of the utmost importance.”

  “And what is our plan, Otto?” Marcus asked as he continued to load the smaller crates and parcels. Otto stopped beside him, dressed in his best clothes and bowler, just as Marcus had seen him that first night.

  “Gordon and the others will go back to Liverpool to resupply and secure the provisions we will need. You, Chin, and I will follow Miss Emily. She has already left the city, so I’m told, and is heading north. Do you have any suspicions as to where she might be going?”

  “She has no ties in that direction, save for the sanatorium. The only thing I can reason is that she intends to limit her violence to places it has already impacted, and the least populated of them. My bet is that she will return to the hills near the sanatorium where she was first infected.”

  “Hmm. It would be unusual for a werekind to return to the territory where it was spawned. But, if she has not yet succumbed to the beast fully, she might be doing as you say. There may be hope in that.”

  Marcus hesitated. “Should we bring Gordon, or another werekind of strength, with us if we are to subdue her Jagerund?”

  “You, of all people, should know that it is no easy thing to restrain such a creature. No, Gordon will oversee things in Liverpool and meet up with us once we determine where she is headed. It will not be force that rescues your Emily. The beast will emerge against us at the slightest hint of a threat, and every time it does so, her mind will slip further from our reach. It will not be your strength that restrains her, but the bond between you.”