Clockworkers

by Ramsey Isler

  “We foresaw this,” Piv said. “Noc Noc told us everything.”

  “Of course he did,” Sam said. “You know, this whole mess was his damn fault.”

  The elves gasped, and looks of shock spread across their cherubic faces. Piv said, “But he was just trying to help.”

  “I don’t need that kind of help,” Sam said. “Setting me up with someone else who knows about you guys is not a good idea. It could have been a disaster even worse than what already happened.”

  “Very well then,” Noc Noc said. “I will provide no more advice to you henceforth.”

  “Good,” Sam said. “Now we just need to get you guys set up with something other than Akida’s rubies. I’m banking that we can do just fine with no jewels at all.”

  “But people seem to like the sparkly rocks,” Piv said.

  “We’ll come up with something else,” Sam said. “It may cost a small fortune in market research, focus groups, and experiments, but we’ll come up with something else.”

  Melkidoodum asked, “How did this unfortunate turn of events come about in the first place?”

  “All of this stupid trouble came up because our old jeweler bailed on us,” Sam said. “This would never have happened if Hamilton were still alive.”

  “Oh he’s alive,” Piv said.

  The words didn’t quite register in Sam’s mind for a couple of seconds. She was just about to switch to an entirely different topic when the gravity of Piv’s words finally sunk in. Her train of thought was totally derailed, and all she could say was, “What?”

  Piv said, “Hamilton is alive...sort of.”

  Sam’s face flushed and her fingers clenched. “You said he was dead!”

  “No,” Melkidoodum said, “you asked if he was dead.”

  “And we said, ’more or less’,” Noc Noc said.

  “But you never asked if he was alive,” Piv said.

  “What’s the goddamn difference?” Sam said.

  “Oh there’s a big difference,” Piv said. “One can be very dead in one way, but very much alive in another.”

  Sam rubbed her forehead vigorously, closed her eyes, and sucked exasperated air through her teeth. “We need to send him back to where he belongs. Like, right now. Where is he?”

  Piv said, “You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the—”

  “I want the damn answer!”

  “Oh, he’s already where he belongs,” Piv said.

  “And where is that?”

  Noc Noc said, “With us, of course.”

  “I have no idea what you little nitwits are talking about,” Sam said. “Just tell me where he is and I can take care of it.”

  Piv narrowed his eyes and said, “You seem very not happy about this.”

  “Amazing powers of perception you have there, Piv. Of course I’m not happy about it.”

  “But you were fine with it before,” Melkidoodum said.

  “I was not fine with it,” Sam said. “I had to deal with it because you little monsters had already done it.”

  The elves gasped in unison again. Their eyes widened. It looked like Piv was about to cry as he said, “M-monsters?”

  Sam realized her mistake immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes you did,” Melkidoodum said with a sneer.

  “No, I didn’t,” Sam answered. “I’m mad, and frustrated, and a little scared, okay? If Hamilton is actually alive and he remembers whatever you did to him...everything we have here will fall apart.”

  The elves didn’t say anything, but their expressions changed. Their faces were solemn and contemplative now. They turned to each other and exchanged meaningful glances. Sam felt like she was missing a conversation that was very private despite the fact that it was happening right in front of her.

  “Very well then,” Piv said. “We can show you where he is. But we doubt it will make a difference.”

  * * *

  The elves told Sam to meet them back at the workshop at exactly 1:14 a.m. Sam didn’t object, or question in the slightest. Her diminutive partners had already agreed to show her something that was apparently quite controversial in their ranks, and she was smart enough to know when to keep her mouth shut and not push more.

  She entered the old factory with no problems and made her way to the west side of the building. She had expected the place to be bustling with activity, as it normally was at this hour. Instead, the workshop was quiet and empty. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

  This was the first sign that tonight would not be a good night.

  Piv and his pals had instructed Sam to head to the door for the basement of the factory. At first, this caught her by surprise because she wasn’t aware that the factory had a basement. Then she remembered that there was indeed an area beneath the main floor, but it was hardly what you’d call a basement. It was a five-foot high space full of pipes and gauges and other things that were essential to the operation of the factory but would best be hidden for aesthetics and space-saving reasons. The chamber was built to allow plenty of horizontal space to move tools and equipment around between the pipes and girders, but there wasn’t much room for standing; at least not for humans.

  Sam made her way to the utility door that would lead her to this place. She walked cautiously, and quietly. Some of the workshop machines were still running, and she could hear them humming in the background. Tools and half-finished timepieces lay scattered haphazardly on work tables. This wasn’t the normal tidiness of the Kith. They always put away their things when they were done with them. All of these hints led Sam to believe that the Kith hadn’t left this place for the night. They just didn’t want to be here right now.

  That was the second sign that tonight would not be a good night.

  Sam found the door—a hefty metal contraption built to withstand heat and pressure in case something ever exploded downstairs. She turned the latch with some trepidation, and pulled the portal open.

  The door squealed just a little bit as metal ground against bolted hinges. Sam had expected a dank odor to assault her nose, but instead a pleasant woodsy aroma wafted up to greet her. It was like lime and vanilla and pungent mushrooms all combined to create a distinct smell that beckoned her to explore further.

  Eight stairs led her deeper into the unseen realm underneath the factory. Sam had to stoop and slouch to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling. She took several steps forward and felt her feet trample something soft and pliable. She looked down, but the light was not bright enough to reveal the mysterious substance that covered the concrete floor. There were lamps installed in here to help with installations and repairs, but they were all off. Instead, the only light came from far up ahead. It was a green glow with a hint of mustard yellow. Sam knelt, and placed her hands on the floor to allow her bare fingers to tell her what her covered feet couldn’t. Her skin touched the strangeness below her and years of tactile memory instantly told her what it was.

  It was grass.

  She smiled. She didn’t know why, but she smiled. This place was having an intoxicating effect on her. Then she heard a voice, Piv’s voice, whisper, “We’re up here.” Sam bounded forward as quickly as she could while keeping her head low. She came closer to the mysterious light, eager to see what magic the elves had been up to down here, all this time, hidden from sight. She stepped into the light, and laid eyes on the terrible beauty the elves had in store for her.

  There was a person hanging from the ceiling.

  At least, Sam thought it was a person. It was hard to tell. The diminutive humanoid form was encased in a translucent egg-shaped glob of shiny gelatin. The glob was suspended from the ceiling by sinewy strands of green and yellow stuff. The gelatinous egg glowed and pulsed. Every now and then, the creature would twitch inside its fluid-filled egg, and Sam could see that the eyes—the black, soulless eyes—were wide open. So was the gaping mouth; seemingly fixed open in a silent scream.

  Piv peeked from behind the jiggling e
gg and said, “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  Sam’s eyes never left the terrible object as she said, “It’s....disgusting”

  “Well...I guess it is that too,” Piv said. “But birth is always both beautiful and ugly. You were rather icky when you came out of your momma too. All blue and slimy and screaming and covered in blood. Horrible sight, it was.”

  “Birth?” Sam said. “What are you...talking about?” But she feared she already knew.

  “You once asked us how we make new Kith,” Piv said. “Well, now you have your answer.”

  Chapter 21

  “I can’t believe this,” Sam said. Her voice was barely a whisper, but she knew Piv could hear her. “Is this...is this Hamilton?”

  “Yes...sort of,” Piv said. “He’s almost ready. One more week or so. He was an easy one.”

  “This wasn’t in my father’s book,” Sam said.

  “Your father never knew about this. He never wanted to know...which I suppose is rather odd for a man who was so very curious. But I think he had suspicions about our origins. I’m sure he had enough hints to put the puzzle together. He sometimes used a phrase that I’ve always found odd. ’Ignorance is bliss’. Is that true?”

  Sam ignored his question. “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “He’ll be one of us.” Piv said. “Much happier.”

  “He doesn’t look happy now.”

  “Ah, don’t worry about that. That’s just a...what do you call it....side effect! Yes, just a side effect of the process. Not everyone looks like that.”

  Sam stepped closer to the strange egg and tried to ignore the sounds and sensations coming from the substance that coated the floor. She was pretty sure she wasn’t walking on grass anymore. She stared at the figure inside and somehow knew, instinctively, that this was really Hamilton.

  But it wasn’t quite the Terry Hamilton that she knew. He was younger—far more boyish than she ever imagined he could be. He was also much shorter and skinnier. But she had no doubts this was him.

  Sam’s eyes lost focus and she brought her hands to her forehead. The gravity of all this slammed into her like a freight train going ninety miles an hour. This was her fault. All of it. All of this terrible madness was her doing. Her mind flashed to thoughts of Hamilton’s wife, shedding a single tear for her husband. Raw emotions tore at her. She fell to her knees, covering her pants in the unknown muck covering the floor. It was nauseating, and her surroundings brought forth a revulsion that made her tremble. She could feel vomit threatening to make its way up and out. She fought to hold it back.

  Once she regained a little composure she said, “This is...this is so wrong.”

  “Says who?” Piv asked.

  “Says everybody,” she screamed. “All of human civilization!”

  Piv shrugged. “We’re not human.”

  Sam pointed to the eggs. “But he is!”

  “He was,” Piv answered. “Now he’s something better. Well, almost. He will be when he’s all done.”

  “When he’s done?” Sam yelled as she returned to her feet. “He’s not a damn cake, Piv! You don’t stick a person into something and wait for them to be done. He’s a man; a human being with feelings and thoughts and a life. You stole all that away from him.”

  “This never would have happened if he had minded his own business,” Piv said.

  “That’s not a good reason to change him against his will.”

  Piv gave her a curious stare. “It’s not? He tried to force his way in here and take things that were not his to take. Don’t your people have laws for that kind of thing?”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “And if they broke those laws they would go to jail, wouldn’t they?”

  “Probably.”

  “And they would be put in there against their will?”

  “You can’t make that comparison, Piv. It’s nowhere near the same thing. You’re transforming people.”

  Piv pointed a slender finger at her and lowered his voice to a tone that carried all the seriousness he could muster. “I know all about your prisons,” he said. “You can’t tell me they don’t transform people. And it’s never for the better. Not ever. At least what we’re doing makes people something more than they could have ever imagined to be.”

  Sam threw up her hands and shook her head. “You know what? I’m not going to argue with you about this.” She turned to the strange pod that held Hamilton and she stared at his tortured face. But even as she watched, Hamilton’s features were slowly changing. You wouldn’t notice unless you stood there and observed carefully, but his agonized grimace was slowly shifting to something...different.

  It was a smile.

  “Will he remember who he was?” Sam asked as she stared at the transformation happening right before her eyes.

  “For a little while maybe,” Piv said. “Then he will forget.”

  “I thought the Kith never forgot anything,” Sam said.

  “We don’t, once we’re old enough. But this lad will be akin to little kiddies once he is done. Do you remember what it was like to be a toddler?”

  “Not at all,” Sam said.

  “Exactly,” Piv said. “You could barely even remember me. The same will apply to this man. His first days as a Kith will be confusing, but soon forgotten.”

  “Get him out of there,” Sam said.

  Piv raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

  “Get him out of there. Now.”

  Piv scratched his forehead and said, “Why would I ever do that?”

  “Because I’m telling you to,” Sam said. “And if you don’t do it, I’ll take him out of there myself.”

  “No no no no,” Piv said, shaking his head vigorously. “That won’t do. That won’t do at all. You don’t understand. He needs to finish.”

  “He needs to get the hell out of there,” Sam said. She started looking around for a tool she could use.

  “You don’t understand,” Piv repeated. “If we take him out before the process is complete, terrible things could happen. Terrible things.”

  Sam turned to him, wide eyed. “Like what? He’ll die?”

  “Mmmmm no,” Piv said. “But if the hatching is stopped right now, things might go bad. He could become neither fully Kith nor human. He would be something else. Something...unpleasant.”

  “Unpleasant? How unpleasant?”

  “That’s unknowable,” Piv said. “It’s different every time it happens. But why are we even talking about this? He’s so close to being done! Just a week more, maybe less. Everything will be fine. Hey, where are you going?”

  While Piv had been talking, Sam walked over to the nearest wall. She’d spotted something interesting—an old ax in a red case of metal and glass labeled “Fire”. She balled her fist, smashed the glass, and retrieved the ax inside.

  Piv took a wary step backwards. “What...what are you are doing?”

  Sam didn’t say anything. She just walked up to the gooey egg, lifted the ax, and brought the blade down in a quick arc that sent the glowing green contents spewing forth. The muck joined the mysterious mess on the floor in a deluge of fluid and gelatinous material. Sam wrinkled her nose, expecting the mess to smell putrid and vile. But the substance smelled more like honey, and had a similar consistency. The small humanoid form that had been stewing in that odd brew was now curled up in a fetal ball on the floor. It did not move, and seemed completely unaware of what was happening. But his chest was now rhythmically rising and falling with deep, full breaths.

  Piv eyed her with a strange expression that conveyed confusion and disbelief. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Clean him up,” Sam answered.

  * * *

  The next day, Sam was sitting in her office, staring out a window, and trying not to think about what she’d seen the previous night. She hadn’t slept at all, and parts of her exhausted mind were suggesting that she should take a nap. She certainly would have, if she had been alone.

  “Are you w
ith me, Sam?” Jess asked.

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “Yeah. I totally agree with you. It’s a good plan.” Jessica had scheduled this morning meeting to discuss a new marketing campaign in Japan, but Sam hadn’t really heard anything Jess said. Her mind was still on the events of last night, and the images that had haunted her so much.

  “Well then, you’ll approve my budget,” Jessica said.

  “Yep,” Sam said. “Go crazy.”

  Jessica smiled. “You haven’t been this agreeable since Akida was around. How is he, by the way?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “You two don’t talk?”

  “No,” Sam said.

  “It didn’t seem like that bad of a breakup. In fact, I was thinking you guys would get back togeth—”

  “Don’t say it,” Sam interrupted. “Not gonna happen.”

  “Okay,” Jess said. “How about I just go and put things in motion for the Tokyo campaign? Money well spent in my opinion.”

  “I’m sure it will be great,” Sam said. She stared out the window.

  Jessica grabbed her stuff and headed for the door, but stopped just before she walked out. “Everything’s okay, right Sam?”

  “Yup.”

  Jessica shrugged, and left.

  Sam sat there for a while and watched the world outside her office. A couple of black squirrels were scurrying up and down the trees across the street. A postal service truck came by for the daily mail service. The mailman was early today, and suddenly Sam became aware of the time. She checked her watch and did a quick calculation in her head. Then she grabbed her phone and found the contact entry for someone she hadn’t dialed in a while. Her finger hovered over the touchscreen for long seconds, waiting for her resolve to come back.

  She hit the button, and the call began. In several seconds, Akida’s voice answered.

  “Hello? Sam?”

  “Uh...hi.”

  “What’s wrong?” Akida asked. His concern was genuine, and something inside Sam’s chest twisted into knots.

  “What makes you think something’s wrong?” Sam said.

  “You’re calling me.”