Corsets & Clockwork

by Trish Telep

  "As am I, Ian, brother," said Rafe looking at me. I looked back. We looked at each other.

  "Right," interrupted the Colonel. "I think we've got a basic handle on the plan to get you, and now your brother, to the machine. I think we should call it a night. See you at sunrise, gentlemen."

  There was a general shuffling as the men rose and made their way out of the meeting room leaving behind me and my ... brother.

  "First," he said turning to me and grabbing my shoulders, "what the blue blazes are you doing here? Second ..." He leaned in and kissed me. This time it was a much harder kiss than our first, almost a little too hard, but I didn't mind. We pulled apart.

  "First ..." I replied, "well, it's a long story. And second ..." This time, I leaned in and kissed him. It was my turn after all.

  There was a sound outside and we flew apart in an instant. The door opened. Captain Dixon stood before us. "I forgot my hat."

  We nodded.

  He got his hat.

  * * *

  Explaining to Rafe why I was there proved to be a rather emotionally fraught thing. For one, he did not appear to appreciate my intentions. For another, he became very angry that I was now in mortal danger. He said something about my being safe at home having been his motivation to continue in this beastly business when the chips were down, and now, evidently, I'd ruined all that.

  "But clever about the whole brother thing," I said, trying to boost his spirits. We were sitting on a wrought-iron bench staring out at the water much like we always did. Though we'd never before been at such a height. With a large, glowing, flying machine in the distance.

  "When they told me someone was here with my summons and surname ... I knew it was you."

  "Because I'm willful and spontaneous?"

  "Because you draw ridiculous conclusions. What on earth made you think that disguising yourself as a boy and following me to the front was somehow for my own good?"

  I sighed hard. "You needed protection."

  "I have protection. I have an army to protect me. Trained soldiers. Not some girl whose father gave her fencing lessons and taught her how to climb trees."

  He made a good point.

  "Imogen, it's not that I don't think the gesture's marvelous. It's just ... I don't want anything to happen to you."

  "And I don't want anything to happen to you either. Which is why I came in the first place," I replied quietly.

  Rafe said nothing in response. Then he reached over and took my hand. He held it low so that the action would not be noticed. We sat there for a moment in stillness listening to the waves crash far beneath us.

  "I can't leave now," I said finally. "Not now that they think I've been officially summoned. It would be treason."

  "And evidently I can't work without my assistant."

  We looked at each other again. He was so nice to look at.

  "So what's this device we have to fix?" I asked as lightly as I could.

  Rafe leaned back and sighed hard. "It's a machine that fires a continuous stream of bullets as it moves on its own through enemy lines."

  "What's happened to it?"

  "It's gotten stuck."

  "Where?"

  "Behind enemy lines."

  * * *

  The next morning was upon us far too quickly. It seemed doubtful even that I had slept, though the hours had passed whether I had or not. Breakfast was a chaotic mess, and I searched frantically to find the Bakers at a far table in the corner. Just as I sat, I was called over by Captain Dixon to join my brother and the others. It was a small moment in time, a decision that made sense, and it was easy to follow Rafe to his table. But in doing so, I disassociated myself from the Bakers and the other fellows with whom I'd journeyed for the week. I was no longer in their company, and from that moment on belonged to Rafe's team.

  The fact was, after losing the Bakers with a brief wave, I never saw them again. I do often hope that they survived and live on, farming and tending to the land happily with their families. I'd hardly known them, so, at the time, parting ways was no great loss. But these thoughts do occur to me every so often. People who have appeared in one's life for an important brief moment, and then are gone just as quickly.

  Without ceremony.

  Simply a change of seating arrangements.

  And thus I was with Rafe from that moment forward. It was a good thing. First to be with the man I loved, but also to be with men of a high status whom not only ate better but got the best seats on the dirigible.

  We boarded at seven in the morning. Orderly, as only the military could be. The inside was cavernous, divided in two so that the men were separated from their superiors. The section I was in was the nicer of the two. Plush and decorated in the modern style, it reminded me somewhat of Father's study. Dark walls, deep leather seats placed in sets of four around small tables next to the windows.

  I sat by the window, and Rafe sat close. Though the windows were large and one could see the view from even the middle of the ship, he seemed very keen to lean into me so he might observe the world outside from over my shoulder. I didn't mind. Captain Dixon sat opposite, as did some other fellow I didn't know.

  A hush fell, and a young man stood before us to explain safety procedures. There was absolutely no smoking allowed, four escape routes, and parachutes available in the sideboard by the bar. Oh, yes, drinking was almost a requirement, and I had my first Scotch that morning. It burned, but warmed me at the same time. Not an entirely unpleasant experience.

  Then there was another announcement. This time a man's amplified voice projected over the room. It was time to take to the sky, and we were all to take our seats. It seemed to me an unnecessary instruction as everyone was already seated, waiting to go.

  At first nothing happened. Then there was a lurching sensation and we clutched the arms of our chairs. Well, not Captain Dixon--he seemed utterly unmoved by the entire experience. Despite having flown previously, I still felt unsettled as I watched our cabin rise up from the platform. There were men on the outside, holding onto long ropes, easing them out through their hands until, finally, they let go and saluted.

  We rose into the air and all within the dirigible were silent as we stared out the windows to watch our progress. The cliffs glowed in the early morning light, the water below a dark, even blue. The pier grew smaller and smaller, and the barracks on land looked little more than toys. Soon both retreated from view and all that remained below was the Channel.

  Half an hour later, Europe appeared--green rolling fields, small farming villages. In time, though I'd never have thought it possible, the general company got a little tired of staring out the window and began to discuss plans for our arrival. Captain Dixon was to be our point man, and we were to follow him. We'd arrive at the camp, take a quick lunch, and then part ways. A small company would then be dispatched to track down the now broken machine.

  And, indeed, after a slightly bumpy landing, this was precisely what we did. We were shepherded into an automated carriage, a contraption that looked much like an average carriage except it was made of a thick metal on all sides with slits for windows. Oh, and it wasn't pulled by horses. It seemed to move of its own volition, though there was a driver that sat on top. He worked a large wheel, and pulled at levers at his side. Each time he did, a jet of steam would explode from some pipe in the rear. The driver's position made him vulnerable, so another soldier, armed with one of those multiple-firing shotgun devices, sat up on the roof to protect him.

  We traveled in the automated carriage for several hours until we hit no man's land and stopped. I took a peek out of the narrow window at the front. A thick forest stretched out before us.

  "We'll set up camp here," announced Captain Dixon.

  We were joined by half a dozen other automated carriages, and soon we'd created a makeshift town that felt remarkably comfortable. Rafe and I met with Captain Dixon in his tent, where the rest of the plan was outlined. They were pretty sure that the machine had stopped somew
here in the forest, south southwest. Rafe and I would go with a team, and once we found the machine, they would fan out to cover all sides. We'd be very well protected, he assured us, adding that he himself would be leading the mission. It might have been slightly arrogant of him to offer that as comfort, but I did feel better knowing he'd be coming along.

  Soon enough it was evening. I'd noticed time seemed to go awfully quickly when one dreaded a thing. I ate little supper and spoke hardly a word. At one point, Rafe leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Once we fix this machine, we'll be off home." I nodded, trying to use the thought as comfort.

  Eventually, it was time. Rafe and I and half a dozen other men stealthily made our way into the forest. It was difficult to be quiet. The time of year meant there were as many leaves on the ground as in the trees. And, of course, there were sticks and whatnot to trip us up as well. We walked for an hour. At least, I believed it to be an hour. It could have been less time, but my heart was in my throat, and I felt such a sense of terror with each step that the journey was interminable. My breathing was shallow, and every sound--the wind creaking the branches, a bird taking flight, some night creature scurrying away from us--made me think we were about to be attacked. Rafe took my hand once, but let it go quickly, realizing that the action was hardly appropriate to our make-believe.

  Captain Dixon stopped finally and signaled for us. Rafe and I were at his side in an instant, and he pointed through the trees. Rafe nodded and gave me a look. Then, with a deep breath, we set out to take the last few feet on our own, while Captain Dixon and his men fanned out to set up a perimeter.

  The machine sat waiting for us, purring. As Rafe took a tour around it, I stole a moment to understand what I was looking at. It was a large cube of brass on two thick wheels. Along the side I was facing were several winches and a large wheel that reminded me of something one would see inside a clock. It made sense, of course, the contraption having been invented by Rafe. There was a tube at the top, like a smoke stack. And I started when it blasted out steam all of a sudden as if it, too, was frustrated by its lack of motion.

  For all the world, I had no idea how it worked, but it didn't seem broken.

  "What's wrong with it?" I asked.

  "The signal from home base isn't getting through," replied Rafe closing a latch on its side.

  "Signal?"

  "We've been using waves in the air to transmit instructions to it."

  "You have? How amazing." And how miraculous.

  "Yes, but see? The signal's blocked by the thick brush. We need something ... we need ..." He started to rummage around in his sack, and I could do nothing but watch. He pulled out a metal plate no larger than something one might dine on. Then there were some strange wires. I watched him work, as I had watched him work so often in the past.

  I loved it. I loved how sure he was. Even in the midst of such peril, watching him now made my spirits soar. Then he suddenly looked at me, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

  "So, Imogen," he said rising, "still fond of climbing trees?"

  * * *

  The plan was straightforward. We chose the tallest tree we could find in the vicinity. He, after a quick peck on the cheek, left me to my own devices and returned to the machine. I was to climb the tree and attach the strange plate to it. I'd then caw like a crow so he knew it was done. When the signal came through, he'd make a hooting sound. Like an owl, I supposed. I would return to him then. If he didn't make a sound, that meant I had to twist the wires a different way. Caw again. If that didn't work, then I was to shift the plate in the opposite direction. And if that too didn't work, return to him, and we'd try something else.

  It was dark and silent. We were alone. And though I knew there were men protecting us, I could see no one. I was scared. Very scared.

  There was nothing for it but to climb.

  This I was good at. I was very good at. It was also a very good tree for climbing. I reached the top quickly and with ease, even with the small bundle on my back, and marveled for a moment at the view. The moon glowed brightly over the forest, and I felt as if I was staring over the ocean, the tips of the trees moving like waves in the dark.

  The moment was just that, there was no time for any more. I had a job to do. I removed the plate from the bundle and tied the leather straps that he'd attached to it around a topmost branch, securing it as tightly as I could. I gave it a good yank, and it stayed firm. Then I cawed, feeling slightly silly. Nothing. I waited another moment. Still nothing. Right. Phase two. I took the two wires protruding from the middle and twisted them together. Another caw. Nothing.

  Then an owl hooting. Or something close to an owl. I couldn't help smiling to myself as I began the climb back down.

  I was halfway to the bottom when I heard the snap.

  I froze in place, held my breath for fear it was louder than usual. The snap happened again. It was a slight sound. Very quiet, and I heard it only due to my proximity. It came from right below the tree. A boot breaking a twig.

  Someone was there. I hoped upon hope it was Captain Dixon or one of his men. I couldn't see from where I was. And I had to see.

  As quietly as I could, and that was quite quiet indeed, I slipped myself down a few feet to where the branches thinned, and I could see the ground below. I could also see the figure below. He was dressed in black and yellow, the colors of the enemy, and he was moving carefully step by step. His gun was before him, aiming at something specific. I followed his line of sight.

  My God.

  It was Rafe. He was the target. A perfect shot, clear right to him, as if someone had gotten rid of a row of trees expressly for the purpose.

  My heart was racing. The soldier beneath me took another step and then kneeled down, aiming the weapon at Rafe, whose back was to us as he tinkered with the machine. I had to do something. And there was only one thing to be done. I had to kill a person. I wasn't sure I could. The thought terrified me beyond anything, but I had to try. It was either him or Rafe. With my chest constricting in panic, I grabbed my pistol, but my hand was shaking so that it slipped from my fingers through the branches of the trees and right to the ground next to the man beneath. The sound would have been enough, let alone the sudden appearance of a pistol. I saw the reaction. I saw him look up.

  There was a moment when we both just stared at each other. And then each of us made a decision. He turned his weapon on me, and I grabbed my knife.

  And I jumped.

  It has come to my attention that you've been ambushing Rafe.

  The memory flashed through my mind just as the gun went off.

  I know little of what happened next. I was certain I landed on him. Where the knife went, I had no idea. I felt pain. Such pain. Pain unlike anything I'd ever felt before. Right in my chest. Through my heart. And a warmth, not unlike the first time Rafe had kissed me.

  Then blackness.

  Then peace.

  "Young lady, it's time for you to wake up."

  "It's no use, Captain, she's not typically one to take orders."

  In and out.

  "My girl, my poor baby girl, this is all my fault."

  In and out.

  "Imogen, my love, it's time now."

  It's time now.

  Time.

  Rafe.

  That was Rafe. Had he wound the clock? He must have, I can hear the ticking. Oh, good. I'll open my eyes then.

  A white room came into focus, and two most familiar faces.

  "Hello," I said.

  "Hello," replied Rafe.

  "And Father. Hello."

  "Hello," said Father, tears streaming down his face.

  I turned my head to the side to take stock of my room. Flowers were everywhere. That was nice. A couple of doctors stood off to the side. And my two men. Rafe and Father, sitting on either side of the bed. "What's all this then?"

  "Well, you're in the hospital," replied Rafe.

  "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. Did it work?"

  "Did what wo
rk?"

  "Putting the plate in the tree? Did it work?"

  Rafe smiled at me. "Beautifully."

  "Good." I smiled back. He was indeed a little funny looking. So wonderfully funny looking. "I tell you what, I thought I was shot."

  One of the doctors chuckled at that. Seemed an odd thing to do.

  "You were," said Rafe, giving him a vile look. How sweet of him.

  "No, I mean, I thought I was shot properly. I thought I died."

  Rafe and Father exchanged a glance, and then Father rose to his feet. "Let's leave them alone for a few moments," he said ushering the doctors out of the room.

  "Tell me everything," I said, a panic rising up. I was missing something, I knew it. There was something I didn't know.

  Rafe nodded. "I heard the shot, I came right over. You were lying on top of a dying enemy soldier, a knife plunged deep in his gut. You yourself had been shot in the chest, the bullet grazing your heart. You were losing so much blood, and all I could think was that your heart had to keep beating. So I made it beat. I used my hands and I pressed on your chest, and then a medic came and Captain Dixon also, and they helped keep your heart beating. We got you out of there, and back to camp, and all along the way, I had this strange thought of a clock and the keeping of time and how the heartbeat is similar and ... then I had this idea ..."

  He stopped the rush of words, words I hardly processed at the time. Up until that moment, I had stayed remarkably still, worried that the slightest move might cause pain. My body was still entirely covered by the white sheet. At his pause, I propped myself up on my elbows, and the sheet slipped away.

  I looked down.

  "I'm in a corset?"

  Rafe nodded.

  But it wasn't just an ordinary corset. It was made of a tough leather and covered in moving pieces. Winches and wheels, and leather straps holding it together. And over my heart was a forest of tiny gears in constant motion.

  "Did you make this?"

  Rafe nodded again.

  "Did you make this to keep me alive?"

  "In the camp, I made a machine that you were hooked up to. But I knew this wouldn't do in the long term--you needed to be free. You couldn't stay attached to something like a dog on a leash. I tried many different versions. I know you don't much like corsets, but in the end it needed to be tight to your body, and the shape made sense."