Quicksilver Soul

by Christine d'Abo

  The harmony grew louder as he finished the final seam on the back of her neck. His fingers were raw from the heat, the skin red and angry, peeling in places it normally wouldn’t. They should be painful, but he no longer seemed aware of pain, or hope, or fear, anything other than admiration and love.

  He really did love her. And he knew she loved him in return, even if she wasn’t able to tell him yet.

  “Soon.” He placed a kiss to her temple, not caring how the metal burned his skin. “I promise. Then we’ll show the world how well you can dance.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  For the next two days, Emmet was forced to watch as Nicola worked like a woman possessed. With little input from him, she completed the lion’s share of the work, bringing the extractor to its final stage. With each connection she formed, they inched closer to the inevitable conclusion, one that Emmet wanted to prevent with his entire being.

  At night when they were returned to their cell, Nicola kept her distance. The physical separation was necessary, even if it wasn’t wanted. The guards had begun to pass by more frequently, making it difficult for them to engage in any further intimacies. Instead of letting his frustrations grow, he channeled them into the creation of a key.

  The wire he’d managed to smuggle back to the cell was thin and flexible. While alone it wasn’t enough to aid their escape, when combined with the file he’d slipped into his boot, it was the beginnings of a tool that would spring the lock on the cell.

  Emmet was squatting on the floor, his back pressed to the wall. He’d spent the better part of their rest time winding the wire around the file, securing it in such a fashion that it would not fall when forced into the lock.

  “I need more of the bloody stuff.”

  Nicola was laying flat on the small cot, her eyes closed, but still awake. Her breathing was slow and steady, her body not quite relaxed against the small bed. “I’ll be done with the extractor today.”

  Those were the words he didn’t want to hear, even if he knew their truth. “Can you draw things out further?”

  “Not without making Thomas suspicious.”

  Setting the key down, he crawled over to the bed. “Don’t give up. We don’t know what his plan is. He could be using this for anything.”

  “You’re sweet, but we are well aware of his intentions. He’s as much as said he will kill me. You’ll perform the extraction, and my residual memories will drive you mad if you don’t find help. If he simply doesn’t kill you as well.”

  She’d been like this since her return from having her finger repaired. In the short time he’d known her this defeatist attitude was new. It was unbecoming in a woman with as much spirit as Nicola had.

  Tipping her chin up, Emmet stole a kiss. Her lips had gone dry, but he moistened them with his tongue. She didn’t respond, but he pushed, taking what they both needed—intimacy and kindness.

  “Emmet,” but the rest of what she intended was swallowed up as he deepened the kiss.

  He needed her. The temptation to strip her down and take her as his own, consequences be damned, was strong. But she was exhausted and weak from lack of proper food and water. They were sore, tired, and in no condition to be engaging in the more pleasant aspects of courtship.

  Courtship? He wasn’t pursuing any sort of relationship with her, with anyone for that matter. He’d willingly given himself to the Archives, taken a vow to put the guild before himself. While the occasional round of sex tended to be overlooked, engaging in anything more substantial was forbidden.

  It didn’t matter that Piper and Samuel had found their way free and now lived a happy life together. His friends had always existed on the fringes of the order. They pushed the limits and beyond, not caring about the consequences. They came from nothing and had nothing to lose.

  He risked his possible future as an Administrator. The only thing he had left.

  He slowed the kiss, but didn’t pull away fully. She reached up and began to scratch at the beard that now covered his face. It was pleasant, and a reminder of how far they’d fallen from their normal lives.

  “I’d kill for a shave.”

  Her chuckle was soft, the first spark of life he’d seen from her in ages. “I like it.”

  “You’d be one of the few women to say so. If I were to step out in society looking this way, I’d leave a trail of swooning women in my wake. And not in a positive manner.”

  “Do you miss it? Society?”

  Did he? It was an odd thing to think of. “Not in the way you might think. I’m the youngest son of a duke. I didn’t enter society or attend balls except for family events. It grew tedious after a time, needing to attend the schools and functions as my father ordered. But sometimes I miss the freedom of travel, of going where and when I wanted. I’d follow my older brothers around like a dog would his master.”

  “That’s all? You don’t miss the balls, shooting parties, or whatever it is that young rich men participate in?”

  “I miss the dirigible races.” Oh, he’d had fun that summer. “My older brother Frederick snuck me onboard. I was too young to be there, according to my father, but I’d begged Fred and he worked his magic. I helped with the navigation. Good memory for maps and all that.”

  “Sounds exciting.”

  His father had been furious with them both when they’d returned. It wasn’t until they showed off their trophy that his father allowed them to both continue. The summer before Fred joined the King’s Army had been wonderful for all of them. For a time, Emmet had believed he’d be able to continue on in that fashion, that he’d be allowed to find his own way with the support of the duke.

  How wrong he’d been.

  “I’m nearly done with my key. If I can procure more wire, it should be enough to finish. One more night is all I need.”

  Nicola traced a pattern down the side of his neck, rising goosebumps in her wake. “I’ll be finished with the extractor today.”

  “Put it off. Delay just one more day. If I can get the key made, we can slip out tonight while the guards shift. Jonas usually drifts off to sleep in the far room, giving us a window for escape. We can even take Keegan if you think he’ll come.”

  Her fingers curled around his neck, massaging the tight muscles beneath. “You’ve been there with me. You have the bloody schematics in your head. It’s obvious to any who looks that the machine is complete.”

  “Nikki—”

  “Oh, now you use my name. When you’re trying to get something from me. Typical male.”

  “Don’t do this.”

  She turned to face him, bracing her weight on her elbow. “I’m doing nothing. I know it’s a fault of character, this unfailing work ethic, but I can’t change who I am. Once I saw the pattern, understood how the connections worked, it was only a matter of time. Today I’ll finish the extractor, and tonight Thomas will kill me.”

  “Not if I kill him first.” He no longer questioned this protective surge she elicited in him. He simply knew that if Thomas attempted to take her life, he’d do everything in his power to save her. Even if it meant sacrificing himself.

  “You can’t kill him. You’d never get close enough. After I’m dead I’ll need you to find a way to prevent the extraction from happening. There are too many things rattling around in this head of mine that would be dangerous in the wrong hands. Or, barring that, if you have no choice but to do what he asks and I’m stuffed into Keegan’s automaton, I need you to destroy it before you wipe me from your memories.”

  It was a difficult promise to make, and it would be an even harder one to keep. But if the consequences were as great as she suggested, he knew he had no choice. “I will do all I can to ensure nothing happens to you.”

  “Emmet—”

  “If I fail, if he wins and I have no choice but to extract your memories, I will make sure the automaton is destroyed. I won’t let your knowledge fall into the wrong hands.”

  If they weren’t discussing her imminent demise, the smile on
her face would have been sweet. “Thank you.”

  The stomping of heels on the stone floor pulled his attention. “Jonas is on his way with food and water.”

  “We must break our fast with enthusiasm. Today is the final day of our captivity.”

  The meal was meager at best as they ate in silence. Nicola’s body had relaxed, her shoulders slumped forward and her head hanging lower than normal. He hadn’t realized how dirty they’d grown in their captivity. Her once white shirt was covered in grease and oil streaks. Her hair rested limp against her face and her corset had long been removed, leaving her body open to him. Her appearance should strike him as horrendous, but all he wanted to do was pull her back into his grasp and rain kisses across her face and neck.

  Lord, what has gotten into me?

  When the time came for them to begin their work, Emmet stood close to her, wanting to offer silent support and encouragement. They would find a way to get through this, alive. He’d be damned if there was any other outcome.

  Upon entering the workroom, he was stunned to see a giant metal woman standing by the bench. She easily towered over him, over all of them, her body appearing as anatomically accurate as he could imagine. Even down to her metal breasts.

  “He finished her.” Nicola’s voice held a note of awe. “She really is quite beautiful. The Company would love to have someone as talented as Keegan on the payroll.”

  Where she saw beauty, Emmet saw the potential for disaster. This wasn’t a simple vessel to house the memories of the dead. This was a creature that could be used for all the wrong reasons, that could be used for the complete destruction of New London.

  “Our boy is a clever one.”

  Emmet hadn’t noticed Thomas sitting in the chair. He appeared to be simply admiring Keegan’s handiwork, though he too had the same look of awe that Nicola wore. Of course the damned clockwerkers would only see the beauty in the machine and nothing else.

  “She’s big.” Ignoring Jonas, Emmet stepped closer to the automaton. The seams were nearly invisible along the torso, Keegan having taken the time to polish the brass and copper to a shine. And while the creature had no hair, he’d given her eyes, a mouth, and a nose, clearly feminine in appearance.

  Reaching out to touch, Emmet jumped back when the creature’s eyes flew open.

  “And apparently she’s been activated.” Her eyes glowed, casting shadows across the floor that stretched to fill the void before them.

  “Not yet. Not completely at any rate. The boy assured me that it’s simply a response to our body heat. An automated on switch if you will. He really is an intelligent little waif. It’s a shame I won’t be able to take him with me back to America.”

  The eyes of the metal woman were staring blankly at the floor, but Emmet couldn’t shake the feeling that she was somehow aware of them, of what was being said. Keegan had molded Parkesine into small orbs, each one giving the metal creature the appearance of life. There appeared to be no obvious light source, which was odd in itself. The brightness flared briefly as Thomas walked into her field of vision, before returning to its normal state. “You plan to kill the boy as well?”

  “Murder is such a messy business. I fear he won’t survive long as an opium addict on the streets of New London. Either he’ll suffer the ill effects of the drug, or will be killed trying to find more. Either way, it’s a loss to the clockwerkers of this city.

  “Now, my darling Nicola, it’s time for you to finish your task as well.”

  Without protest, she made her way to the bench to continue her work. Everything was near perfect, and Emmet realized it would take only a short time for her to complete her task. He knew this as well as the fact that the extractor wouldn’t work.

  He’d clung to that final piece of information as though it were a lifeline and he’d been cast to sea. As soon as they attempted to test the machine, he’d be forced to play his final hand. They’d either buy more time, he’d be able to finish his key, and they’d make their escape attempt tonight, or Nicola was dead.

  No pressure, mate.

  For the first time since all this began, he wasn’t chained to the bench. It gave him freedom to walk around, see if there was anything he’d be able to use as a weapon, a means of escape. But when Jonas and the other guard arrived, Keegan in their grasp, he knew he wouldn’t be able to make his move without putting others at risk. Dammit to hell.

  Within the hour, Nicola set the wooden plank that contained her control panel on top of the makeshift box and stepped away from the bench. “It’s done.”

  The muscles in his back tightened as Edison stepped up to inspect the work. The leads were checked, the tubes and filaments handled to ensure their proper connections. Edison had managed to find a set of goggles with blackened lenses. They dangled from wires connected to the bottom of the panel, swinging ominously back and forth. Overnight a number of suction cups had also appeared on the bench. Larger than the ones normally used in the extractor, they appeared to be sufficient to complete the task.

  In other words, there was only one element missing.

  Once he was satisfied, Edison turned to Emmet. “Time to see if it will work.”

  In a move smooth and fast, Edison pulled a revolver from beneath his arm inside his coat, spun, and shot Jonas in the throat. Nicola screamed and Emmet jumped as the body slumped to the floor with a hollow thud. Keegan simply looked down at the body cooling by his feet.

  “Oh,” he said softly, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Mr. Dennison, if you will, please drag the body to where you need it to be. I want to ensure everything is set up properly before we begin.” Edison shifted so the revolver was now pointed at Nicola. “Promptly, please. I wish to finish our day on a positive note.”

  He wanted nothing more than to punch something—Edison ideally, but Emmet would settle for a wall. Ignoring the panicked look in Nicola’s eyes, he made his way over to what remained of the guard and rolled the corpse.

  “He needs to be flat. The connectors also need to be put in the right positions or else it won’t work. The energy points need to be contacted to allow the memories to be pulled more freely from… from the body.”

  His hands shook and his stomach turned at the stench of blood. He’d seen his share of bodies over the years, but never like this, so recent. Blood pooled around the head on the floor, spreading across the stones, seeping into Jonas’ clothing, covering Emmet’s fingers.

  He had to swallow the bile rising in his throat. “We need to move him. We need to clean him up.”

  “I’ll help.” Keegan dropped to his knees and slipped his hands beneath Jonas’ feet. “Did you want to go now?”

  The thought of this child being witness to such horror and responding with such disconnect made him as sick as the murder itself. “We don’t need to take him far.”

  Emmet pushed the emotions aside, forced them deep down to a place where they wouldn’t overcome him. Detached, clinical, an archivist. This is what he needed to do, to be. This is why the others didn’t trust him. He hadn’t borne witness to the final moments of another human being by performing an extraction, hadn’t paid homage to the passing of a spirit to the beyond.

  Polished black boots appeared in Emmet’s peripheral vision. “Do you need to wait for the bleeding to subside?”

  “No.” More blood trickled down Jonas’ neck. “Though it would be cleaner.”

  A white cloth fluttered down to land on Jonas’ wound. “I have more if necessary.”

  Emmet let out a long, slow breath. “We need the box.”

  Time was slipping away from him. He began to undo the buttons on the body’s shirt—the body, not Jonas, not his guard—exposing the chest. The skin was pale, red spots rising to the surface. In several hours the smell would grow oppressive, the body would stiffen and bloat, the features twist until they were unrecognizable. Not that Emmet would be there to see. Not that he’d be allowed to remember once the memories were taken from him if he was luck
y enough to survive and make it back to the Archives.

  Or he would also be dead.

  The extractor was set beside him, Nicola’s slight frame by his side. “Can I help?”

  “No.” He wanted her as far from here as possible. Didn’t want her to get caught up in the inevitable aftermath. “I’ll need space.”

  He’d done the placement of the connections many times in the past. It was the first real test the acolytes were faced with during their training. He’d heard the connection points referred to once by one of the Guild Masters as chakras, but never again. With care and precision, he placed each cup in its spot. Keegan watched, looking between him and the body, his mouth opening as though he wished to speak, only to close without giving his question voice.

  Once everything was set, Emmet sat back on his heels and cast a cold eye to his handiwork. “It’s ready.”

  The sound of the revolver being cocked by his ear should have frightened him more than it did. “I believe you’re missing something.”

  For a fleeting moment, he thought his secret had been discovered. His body tensed and Emmet was ready to turn and fight, when a thin glass vial was held out for him to take. Relief eased some of the tension in his chest. They still had a chance. He slipped it into place on the panel and flicked the switch for the power.

  “Thank you, Mr. Dennison. Please move away from it now.”

  “Pardon?” The muzzle of the revolver bit sharply into the back of his neck. “It’s difficult to perform an extraction without being near the machine.”

  “Which would be a concern if it were you performing the extraction. Move.”

  Edison led him over to the workbench and quickly secured him with his shackles. “Nicola, as much as I’d love to allow you free rein, I suggest you come here as well. I’d hate for you to wander off before we test the quality of your work.” She did as asked, and within moments they were secured.

  “What are you doing, Edison?” Emmet struggled against the chains. “You can’t be thinking to perform the extraction yourself?” The man clearly had no understanding of the task if that was his intention.