Steel Kisses

by Laura Strickland

  He couldn’t keep his gaze from moving to the half-open front of her gown. He denied himself manfully. “No.”

  “Perhaps a kiss…in parting? It seems you have had so little for your money.”

  “I’ve had a lot. More than you can know. But yes—I’d like a kiss.”

  She closed her eyes and lifted her face, precisely like a child. Reynold drew her into his arms, close against him, and lowered his lips to hers.

  Just one kiss as she’d said—in parting. But sensation arose and battered him. She felt warm—so warm—there against his chest. She smelled of flowers and tasted sweet. He wrapped his arms tight, and her mouth opened to him, allowing his tongue inside.

  He didn’t care then that other men’s tongues—and worse—had been there before him. In a curious way, for those few seconds, she belonged to him.

  He released her, and she opened her eyes. What did he see there? More emotion than during the whole two hours before.

  “You must go,” she whispered.

  “I don’t want to. I hate leaving you here.”

  She tipped her head again. “I would prefer you did not leave. But they will come soon and escort you away.”

  He cupped her cheek in one hand. Her skin felt like velvet.

  “Lily—will you be all right if I go?”

  “I have always been all right.”

  “Maybe I can find a way…”

  A knock sounded on the door. “Go,” she urged, “or they will not permit you to visit again.”

  He nodded, turned—stiff as an automaton—and fumbled the door open. Speaking of automatons, two steamies stood there—big ones—in silent demand.

  He stepped out. He ached to turn back and reassure Lily, but the door closed very, very softly behind him.

  He followed the steamies down the hallway, down the stairs, and through the big foyer. They ushered him out, and he found himself standing on the steps, his mind astir and his entire life changed.

  Go, or they will not permit you to visit again.

  Did that mean she wanted him to return?

  Oh, God, yes.

  Chapter Six

  “Liam, you have to give me more work. I need to earn some extra dosh, and there are no side jobs hanging about.”

  Liam raised his eyes from the accounts spread on the counter and regarded Reynold with an intense blue stare. Reynold had intended to wait as long as necessary till they were alone before approaching his boss—he didn’t need Sasha for an audience. But Sasha had been sent early this morning to oversee a delivery of lumber, and Pete had gone off with Liam’s wife, Clara, to have his hand—injured late yesterday when an adze slipped—seen by the quack.

  “Side jobs?” Liam repeated. “Do I not pay you a fair wage?”

  “Sure.” Ordinarily, when he didn’t need to raise a huge sum quickly.

  Discernment kindled in Liam’s eyes—he was a quick one, was Liam McMahon. “Don’t tell me you’ve been to see your little dove and want to go back?”

  Reynold nodded, refusing to be sheepish about it. It was all he wanted—to see Lily again. He thought about it morning, noon, and night. Two days, and he worried for her, wondered if she watched for him.

  He’d seen her both those days through the bars in the gate. He’d even called to her once, but noise in the street kept her from hearing him.

  “Lily.” He pronounced the name with reverence. “She’s like no one I’ve ever known.”

  “Well, I should think so.”

  “So pure, so beautiful.”

  The expression in Liam’s eyes changed. “Pure? She’s a…”

  “I know, but there’s just something about her. I have to see her again.”

  Liam drew a breath. “Rey, lad, how is it you do not know—”

  He broke off when Pete entered the shop, his hand swathed in white bandaging. Clara McMahon followed him, and for that moment, Reynold knew, Liam saw nothing else.

  Something special happened when Liam beheld his wife—Reynold couldn’t put a name to it, but he recognized it. Akin to magic, it must be. Folks whispered Clara McMahon had some magical abilities. Reynold didn’t know about that but suspected she’d long ago enchanted Liam.

  Now she entered briskly on Pete’s heels, stripping off her gloves, dressed all fine in a green walking suit. The great bulk of Liam’s child preceded her, but she moved lightly in spite of it.

  “Doctor says his hand’s broken,” she announced. “Won’t be able to use it for three weeks.”

  “Well, and that’s ill news, indeed.” Liam scowled at Pete. “What have I told you, lad, about haste?”

  Pete hung his head. “I’ll still be able to work with the other hand.”

  “And do what, sand on a board or two? No lifting, no carrying—you’re as good as useless to me.” Liam sounded rueful rather than angry. “And so what am I to do? Folk will not stop dying because you’ve hurt your hand.”

  Clara leaned on the counter close beside Liam. “You’ve needed to hire more help for a long while. This just precipitates things.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “When the baby comes, you’ll be wanting to spend more time at home.”

  “So I will. But I’ve no time to train up anyone now.”

  “Couldn’t you put Sasha in charge, have him train someone?”

  Liam’s gaze flicked to Reynold. “I do not think that would be a good idea.”

  Pete grunted his assent. “I can still be here, deal with the customers.” He nodded at the papers on the counter. “I could do the accounts for you. You know I’m good with numbers.”

  “And I,” Reynold put in hastily, “am willing to work double shifts.”

  “Double?” Clara looked at him. She had curious, gray-green eyes that sometimes seemed to look through him. “I should say you work hard enough already.”

  “He was just after telling me he wants more work.” Liam and Clara exchanged a look, one of those so private it almost made Reynold feel embarrassed.

  Liam went on, “What worries me, among other things, is leaving the two of them without proper supervision—Rey and Sasha, I mean.”

  Reynold stiffened in indignation. “I don’t need supervision. I’m not a child.”

  Clara laid a cool hand on his arm. “Liam did not mean that.” He felt a tingle where she touched.

  “I did not.” Liam shook his head. To Clara he added, “’Tis just that Sasha rides the lad unmercifully.”

  Clara wrinkled her nose. “If that’s the case, why not let Sasha go?”

  “I’ve thought about it. But where am I to find another man with his skills? And now that we’re to be short-handed…”

  She sighed. “At least ask around.” She placed both hands in the small of her back. “I’m going home.”

  Liam instantly looked concerned. “I will take you.”

  “No need, my love.” She leaned up and kissed him with inexpressible tenderness. Reynold looked away.

  “Nay,” Liam said as soon as the kiss ended. “Just let me finish up a few things. Pete, you come and look at this.”

  The two hurried off to the back of the shop, and Clara shrugged at Reynold apologetically.

  “He’s concerned for me. I believed I’d never bear a child, you see. The women of my family have considerable trouble with it.” She grinned suddenly and looked like an imp. “Certainly no lack on Liam’s part. But he’s worried himself sick over it because my mother—well, when I was born I didn’t survive. She brought me back to life.”

  Clara spoke it so matter-of-factly, Reynold could do nothing but believe.

  “I wish you every ease and happiness,” he whispered.

  “Sweet boy.” She reached up and patted his cheek, even though he made two—or more—of her in size. “It will be a lucky woman snags your heart. Which reminds me—” The look in her eyes changed, became bright with golden light. “This girl you’ve been watching, the one from the Golden Palace…”

  “You know about that?” H
is face flamed with heat.

  “Liam mentioned it. My darling, take a better look at her. She is not what she seems, and not what you think.”

  “How could that be?” He’d sat talking with her for two hours, gazing nowhere but into her crystal blue eyes. “I mean, I already know she’s a prostitute.”

  “Rey, sweetheart, not only is she a prostitute; she’s an automaton.”

  “What?” Reynold barked the word. The heat that drenched him was followed by a flood of cold. “Impossible. She isn’t.”

  “You truly didn’t know? I suppose it must be very hard to tell. I’ve met members of the Irish Squad, of similar construction, and they’re terribly convincing. Word says the models at Dr. Landry’s are even more sophisticated.”

  “Models? No! She’s a woman. I went to see her, sat and spoke with her. I…I kissed her.”

  Clara’s expression turned pitying. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? In theory, Candace Landry created those automatons to alleviate the plight of women in this city who risk their safety and their lives on the streets.”

  Reynold made a strangled sound.

  “But Dr. Landry got carried away with her skill—or perhaps her investors insisted on a return for their money. I honestly don’t know. But she set up her prototypes in that place on Niagara and charges a fortune for their favors. And common women still risk their lives at the hands of brutes, with no relief.”

  “Lily…” Reynold choked.

  “Is that her name? I’m sorry, Rey, so sorry to burst your pretty bubble.”

  She paused as Liam came up beside her, looking rueful.

  “You’ve told him, then?”

  “Someone had to. It’s cruel to let him go on believing what’s not true.”

  “Sorry, lad,” Liam said. “I was going to clue you in—”

  “Did everyone know? Everyone but me?” Reynold’s face burned. “Sasha? He gave me that money as a joke, right? He was laughing the whole time.”

  Clara said briskly, “I thought everyone in the city knew the truth. Dr. Landry is infamous. Some think she’s doing wonderful work and some abhor her. Topaz Gideon, who possesses considerable wealth, was one of her original backers, I believe. Mrs. Gideon is quite concerned with the plight of streetwalkers.”

  Reynold didn’t give a fig about any Mrs. Gideon. His heart still protested what he’d been told.

  “But,” he said helplessly, “we spent two hours together and had a real conversation. You mean to tell me she runs on steam? I would have been able to tell.”

  “Maybe not,” Liam rumbled. “Have you met Patrick Kelly?”

  Reynold shook his head.

  “He’s a hybrid steam unit, and a Buffalo police officer. He got married early this year to a human woman called Rose. He’s living an ordinary life.”

  “That might be possible for Lily, then.”

  “Nay, lad,” Liam said quickly. “Best not to go there even in your mind. Kelly is a special case, a free hybrid automaton. Those units—the prostitutes—are property of this Dr. Landry. I don’t see her letting go of them. Do you, my love?”

  Clara also shook her head, regretfully. “I’m afraid not. I’m terribly sorry, Rey.”

  She touched his wrist again before she and Liam departed the shop together, leaving Reynold wrapped in dismay.

  Lily was not property—he refused to think of her that way.

  And the next time he saw Belsky, he meant to smash him right in his big, ugly mouth.

  Chapter Seven

  “Come here. I want to see the damages.”

  Roughly, Dr. Landry hauled Lily closer so she might inspect the bruises on her arms and the bite marks on her breast.

  Lily stood naked in her own chamber. She had reported the mistreatment to one of the steamies as soon as the client left and then waited for Dr. Landry or someone else to come. When Dr. Landry was at the house, she always handled these kinds of things herself.

  “Hmm,” she said, rubbing one thumb across a bruise. “Quite extensive. What did you do to provoke him?”

  “Nothing, Dr. Landry. I was obedient. Just as you always say we should, I acquiesced to his every demand. But he hurt me.”

  Candace Landry fixed Lily with a mud-colored stare. “He did not hurt you. You cannot feel pain.”

  “I did feel, Dr. Landry.” Lily glanced down at her breast. “I felt that.”

  “You experience sensation. The sensors embedded in your skin and exterior organs allow you to translate that sensation into the appropriate response. You have no brain and therefore cannot feel pain as such.” Dr. Landry glared harder. “Do not get notions above yourself.”

  “No, Dr. Landry.”

  “That being said, why did you not signal for help when he began damaging you?”

  “You always say never to interrupt the session, Dr. Landry. Not for any reason. He had not finished.”

  Miss Crump, who stood by during this encounter, gave a ladylike grunt. “At least this one is obedient.”

  “Yes.” Dr. Landry spoke to Miss Crump and not to Lily. “I hope I did not go too far with this model. I built them to be adaptable and to learn from their environment. The information bank is capable of virtually infinite expansion. I never intended for them to become autonomous.”

  “Nothing worse than an autonomous automaton,” Miss Crump said dryly.

  “Precisely.”

  “What about the next batch?”

  Lily and all her sisters had heard for weeks that Dr. Landry meant to bring in a new set of Ladies—that was what she called them, a set.

  “I may need to fine tune them, delay their release.” She returned her attention to Lily. “Get on the bed, and spread your legs.”

  Lily obeyed.

  “Did he damage your vagina?”

  “He—bit me there also.”

  Mrs. Landry performed a thorough examination, during which Lily fixed her gaze on the bed canopy and thought of something else. She thought of Rey, as she seemed to do so often since his visit.

  She had hoped he would return to see her. Each time she was called to fetch a client, she held an expectation it might be him. Why did he not come? Had he figured out what she was? Had he lost interest because she was not a real woman?

  “Nasty,” Mrs. Landry said. “Miss Crump, this unit has sustained considerable damage and will have to be pulled out of service temporarily.”

  “Can she be repaired?” Miss Crump asked.

  “Yes, but it will take me some time. Advise the clients accordingly.”

  “Yes, Dr. Landry. Speaking of which, if the client who damaged the Lily unit returns, should I refuse him?”

  Dr. Landry stepped back from the bed. “Of course not.”

  “But…”

  “That particular client is quite wealthy and patronizes us often. We are not in business to turn clients away.”

  “I see. But if he should ask for Lily again—”

  “Then she will entertain him, once she’s back in service. Will you not, Lily?” Dr. Landry fixed Lily with a stern eye. “And be even more accommodating.”

  “Yes, Dr. Landry.”

  But Lily wished that client would never return. She wanted Rey instead.

  ****

  “It’s a little girl!” Pete, his face wreathed in smiles, delivered the news as soon as Reynold stepped into the shop. “Born last night—what a night it was! I didn’t get any sleep. Liam’s well pleased.”

  Reynold nodded. “Everyone all right?”

  Pete’s smile faded. “There was a bad moment. Baby came out not breathing. Mrs. Collwys was there—you know Mrs. Collwys?”

  Reynold nodded.

  “She held the baby up to Clara’s face—Clara puffed at it, so I heard, and it started wailing.”

  “Well, isn’t that a wonder?”

  “It is. They’ve decided to name her Grainne, after Liam’s mother. Liam sent me down to open the shop, and he says no trouble between you and Sasha.”

  “Where
is Sasha?” Reynold hadn’t seen him since he’d learned the truth about Lily, but he wanted to, very badly.

  “Not come in yet.”

  The clock high up on the wall ticked, and Reynold looked up. “He—hang on,” he told Pete, and ran.

  This time he didn’t go out the back. Instead he dashed around and pelted up the street that ran parallel to the alley, as fast as he could go. He’d been built for strength, not speed, and was breathing hard when he reached Niagara and saw the tram coming down the street.

  He parked himself on the curb and waited. Every day he’d watched through the bars, seen Lily and her “sisters” arrive at the stop, watched the steamies who he now could tell accompanied them as guards. Today he wanted her to see him too. He didn’t know what impulse moved him, why it felt so important that Lily should see him. It just did.

  The tram stopped, and the beauties began to disembark. Reynold counted them under his breath…six, seven, eight, nine. And that was all. No Lily. She wasn’t there.

  He stiffened. In all the weeks he’d been watching her, this had never happened. Where was she? He stepped out from the curb, half intending to ask one of the other girls, and the nearest steamie guard turned its blank face toward him. The guard held a very small steam cannon close against its side; even a small steam cannon could kill.

  Rey backed off a bit, worry gnawing at him with sharp teeth.

  He wanted to follow them, wanted to march into the Crystal Palace and inquire for Lily—more, demand to know where she was.

  Instead, he watched the little party move down the street and saw them turn in at the appropriate door.

  He didn’t know what to do. His thoughts didn’t always move as quickly as those of other men, though sometimes they moved very swiftly indeed. Now fear made it worse. He felt as if a blanket of fog possessed his mind.

  He walked back around and into the shop to find that Sasha had arrived in his absence.

  The tall, thin man grinned at him in the derisive way he had. “Well, did you see her?” he jibed.

  “No.”

  “Not in time? No matter—there is always tomorrow, nyet? And, Rey, you never did tell me—what does it feel like when you hump into one of them? Could you tell it from a real woman, then?”