Cogheart

by Peter Bunzl

  Lily leaned towards him. “So you know something more about Papa’s disappearance, about this perpetual motion machine?”

  The professor frowned, twisting the cigar in his hand slowly. “Dear child, of course I know something about it. Thinking about it has taken up thirteen years of my life.” He waited while his mechanical butler cleared away the last of the dishes and left. Then the professor dragged a marble ashtray across the table and tapped the ash from the end of his cigar into its bowl.

  “Seven years ago,” he began, “your father and I were working together on hybrid machines. Your father was designing mechanicals with new feeling-engines, and I was studying bionics, making repairs to soldiers who’d been injured in combat.

  “Unfortunately I was only able to save a few men before my own health problems worsened. Every day I found myself losing breath, and forgetting pieces of vital knowledge needed for the work. On more than one occasion, I lost consciousness for a time. The doctors assisting me did lots of tests. They discovered I was mortally ill – my heart was failing.

  “Your father offered to help; he had been making a copy of a human heart from clockwork, and he thought if he could finish it, and implant the thing, it might save my life. I agreed and paid him handsomely to start right away.”

  “Well, it looks like he did a good job,” Robert said. He couldn’t stop himself staring at the bulky device connected to the professor’s chest. He hoped he wasn’t being rude.

  “What, this?” Professor Silverfish tapped his device again. “Oh no – this primitive monstrosity has to be wound daily, and constantly repaired. Makes me feel like one of those blasted useless mechs!”

  Lily baulked at this outburst, but she said nothing, just let the professor continue; she needed him to get to the end of what he wanted to say.

  “No.” The professor thumped the chest plate of his machine. “John didn’t create this heart. His device was much more sophisticated. Far more compact. A genius piece of engineering.” He brushed some ash from his white shirt cuff.

  “Even before it was finished, I begged to see the device, but John was always so secretive. He refused. Hid the thing in his safe each day.

  “Only when it was nearly finished did he change his mind. Showed me to his office in this very house.” Lily gave a start. The professor gave a little nod of acknowledgement, then continued. “John removed a painting from above the fireplace, uncovering a safe, which he opened to reveal a small rosewood box.”

  Robert saw Lily glance down at the box by the foot of her chair.

  Professor Silverfish hadn’t noticed – he was deep inside the memory. “John placed the box on the workbench in front of me. From inside came a quiet ticking. He turned a key in the lock and opened the lid, and the tick got louder.

  “I peered into the padded velvet interior. Nestling inside was the completed device: the Cogheart.”

  “The Cogheart,” Lily whispered.

  “What did it look like?” Robert asked.

  “It was different in appearance from any piece of clockwork I’d ever seen,” Professor Silverfish said. “Organic and lumpy, like the organs one finds in a butcher’s shop, and its surface was pocked with indents and metal vessels.

  “I reached out and took the Cogheart in my hands. It felt cold and heavy, and yet the shape was not uncomfortable. In fact, it fitted perfectly into my palms. Almost as if the thing was moulding to my skin; wanting to become part of me.

  “When I touched a catch on the front of the device, a panel flicked open and I saw that the heart contained four glass chambers and hundreds of tiny metal cogs turning in unison. At the centre, a glowing red stone emitted a pulsing light.

  “I stared at it in amazement. It was the perfect piece of hybrid technology, an impossible device made real. Better than anything I could’ve come up with myself. I had so many questions, but your father waved them away.

  “‘When can I have it?’ I asked. ‘When will it be mine?’

  “‘Soon,’ he said. But, when I saw him the next day, his face had hardened.

  “‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Problems with the device?’

  “‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s something else. I’m afraid, Simon, I’ve changed my mind. I cannot give you the Cogheart.’

  “‘Why not?’

  “John shook his head. ‘I did some tests and discovered something amazing: this device runs on perpetual motion. It’s a perpetual motion machine. I’ve created the most powerful machine in existence. It will not slow or break or stop. It will not die. I could never put that inside someone.’ He scratched his beard and looked at me, and his eyes were deadly serious. ‘You see, Simon, I believe I’ve discovered a way to keep humans alive for ever. And that’s not something which should make its way into the world.’

  “‘But you made a promise,’ I said. ‘Surely you’ll reconsider?’

  “And it did seem for a moment that he was thinking about it. But then he turned his back on me and I knew he’d made his decision. ‘The proper thing to do’, he said, ‘is to destroy the device. You can ask me tomorrow, but I don’t think I’ll have changed my mind.’”

  Professor Silverfish ground out his cigar in the ashtray. “Neither of us knew that tomorrow was not to be. Events took a rather different course, what with your mother’s accident, and your illness, Lily. And then your father went into hiding. I could only assume he did so because he had stolen the Cogheart. In all honesty, I don’t think he ever intended to destroy it. In my opinion he planned to study the thing, to learn more of the secrets of the impossible energy it possessed.”

  There was a long silence and Robert waited for Lily to speak, but she seemed lost for words.

  “So that’s what everyone’s after?” he asked finally. “What they want from Lily and Malkin and her papa? What they wanted when they came to my da’s shop and killed him.”

  “Yes.” Professor Silverfish nodded. “There had been rumours in certain circles of what John was working on at the time. Even his disappearance didn’t stop people looking for the Cogheart. But he always kept himself very well hidden. As for myself, I never saw or heard from him again. I was forced to go south, to the continent, for my health, and there I began designing a primitive machine which would help me to survive.

  “When I returned to England last year, I found this old house of yours up for sale. The broker was your father’s ex-lawyer, Mr Sunder. At first he refused to tell me where John had gone, wouldn’t let me contact my old friend directly. But after John’s airship crashed, I managed to persuade him – and it’s a good thing I did, because I see you’ve brought me the Cogheart.”

  Lily gulped and her face drained of colour as she glanced down at the box. Her godfather was smiling like a cat who’d caught a bird. Finally Robert understood why the professor had invited her here.

  Professor Silverfish stood and took a small key from his pocket. “Your father entrusted this to me when I last saw him,” he explained. “It’s for the lock.”

  Lily reached under her chair for the box and put it on the table in front of him. “If I give you this, will you help me find him?”

  He nodded.

  “Then you can have it,” she said. “It’s caused my family, and Robert’s, nothing but pain and trouble.”

  Professor Silverfish took a deep breath, put the key in the lock, turned it…and opening the lid, stared at what was inside the box.

  Then his face fell and he let out a strange cry. He tipped out the contents and they scattered across the table. A handful of photographs, a thick braid of hair, a piece of old lace, a wedding ring, and a stone. Pictures and memories.

  “Where is it?” he cried.

  Lily let out a gasp. She picked up one of the photographs. It showed her and her parents, standing together outside this very house.

  “These things belonged to Mama,” she said, examining the stone. She turned it over in her hand, so that Robert caught a glint of a gold swirling creature embedded at its centre. �
�This is one of her fossils,” she said softly. “She collected them. And here’s her wedding ring and a braid of her hair, and part of her favourite dress…”

  “Worthless,” Professor Silverfish said, staring at the stuff. “All of it.” He brushed the box aside. “Just like you.”

  Robert felt suddenly sick. Tears were forming in Lily’s eyes; she grabbed at her mama’s things, snatching them across the table towards her. “But Papa’s letter…” she said. “He wrote that we could trust you; you promised help…promised to find him.”

  “And what are promises worth?” Professor Silverfish said angrily. “No. You’re mistaken, Lily. The letter was a warning not to trust me. Ever.” He turned and gave her a strange look. “But because you at least brought me the box, I will do you one last favour. I will allow the meeting your heart desires.”

  He took a miniature bell from the centre of the table and rang it. A clump of heavy boots and the tap-tap-tap of a cane came echoing down the hall, and the door swung open to reveal a grinning Roach and Mould, their mirrored eyes gleaming. Slumped between them, his head bowed, was Lily’s father.

  “Papa!” cried Lily, but the relief that flooded over her was quickly followed by a growing sense of horror. Papa looked awful, his body twisted, his arms limp. Her heart went out to him. “What’ve you done?” she cried.

  “Nothing he didn’t deserve.” Mould’s mirrored eyes shimmered with glee.

  “Say hello,” Roach told Papa, and the pair of them let him go, so that he slumped to the floor, collapsing in a tangled heap like a stringless marionette.

  Professor Silverfish regarded his old friend with bare disdain. “I’m afraid my men performed a few experiments on John to jog his memory.” He stepped back as if Papa’s despair might tarnish his shoes.

  Papa raised his head and stared at Lily. “My darling… my dear one.” His words sounded fractured and choked with tears, but he gritted his teeth and continued. “Why did you come?”

  Lily gulped down the pain in her chest. “To find you.”

  “I sent a letter…with Malkin, warning you not to. You’re supposed to hide. Where is he? He should be taking care of you.”

  Professor Silverfish laughed and waved the singed letter at him. “Oh, she got your letter all right. Thought it said I would help. Imagine – your own words brought her right here! Along with my encouragement, of course.

  “And now, John, you will tell us where the Cogheart is, or resume work on your new prototype. Otherwise I shall be doing a little surgery myself.” He took Lily’s chin between his strong fingers, and turned her face towards Papa’s.

  “First I shall cut off her ears, then her toes, then fingers and then when I’ve finished with those, I shall cut off every other piece of her, until there’s nothing left.”

  He let her go and Papa gave an anguished cry, but Professor Silverfish ignored him and consulted his pocket watch. “I’ll give you an hour to accept my offer.” He glanced at Robert. “Meantime, while we wait, perhaps I’ll chop a few digits off this boy. I hear he’s not a particularly good clockmaker.” He waved a hand at Mould. “Take John back to his lab.”

  Mould bent down and grasped Papa round the neck.

  “You let go of him!” Lily screamed. She grabbed a glass from the table and threw it at them.

  It missed, smashing against the wall.

  Mould laughed as he dragged Papa from the room.

  Professor Silverfish stood in the doorway and lit another cigar as he watched Mr Roach creep round the table towards Lily.

  “No, you don’t,” Robert said. He picked up a china plate and threw it at Roach, but Roach batted it away harmlessly with his stick, and it clattered onto the floor.

  Robert took Lily’s hand and pulled her round the far side of the table, then realized there was no escape: the pretty frescos on the walls, the plants on their stands and tables of bright objects all disguised the fact that the room had no windows.

  “This way,” Lily cried, kicking over a chair. She tried to drag Robert under the table, but Roach dropped his stick and scooped them up in his arms, throwing two sweaty palms across their faces.

  “I’ve tried to be nice.” Professor Silverfish exhaled a puff of smoke. “But I can’t have you wreaking havoc in my house.” He stepped into the hallway. “Lock the children in the coal shed, Mr Roach. I’ll attend to them later. Right now I want to see if John has had a change of heart.”

  Mr Roach gripped Lily’s and Robert’s arms and marched them across the courtyard behind the house. The coal shed was set into an exterior wall, and Lily immediately thought of the one back at school. Roach opened its door, then frisked Robert and got him to turn out his pockets.

  “Now you,” he said, stepping over to Lily.

  “If you dare lay a hand on me,” she spat, “I’ll kill you.”

  Roach laughed. “I’m not the one who’ll be dead, missy,” he said, throwing them both inside. “We’ll be back to collect you in a while. Something tells me Papa’s going to start cooperating pretty soon.”

  He slammed the door and locked it, leaving them alone in the dark. Robert and Lily watched him through a barred grate in the door as he hung the key on a hook embedded in the end wall, then went back into the house.

  As soon as he’d gone, Lily shook the door handle. She pressed her face against the grate and peered down at the padlock. “We have to get out of here,” she whispered.

  “What’s the use?” Robert said. A sudden flash of jealousy flared inside him. He slumped onto a pile of coal in the corner. He’d lost everything because of her papa and that stupid Professor Silverfish’s quarrel. She still had a glimmer of hope, but he had nothing.

  “I knew something about that professor wasn’t right,” he snapped. “And now – after all we’ve been through – I’m in a coal shed waiting to die.”

  Lily glared at him. “So don’t wait then. Look: we’re not going to die in a coal shed. We’re going to escape, and save Papa.”

  “If you say so.”

  Lily rolled up the sleeves of her dress and stuck her arm out through the gap between the bars. “I can almost reach the lock.” She plucked a hairpin from her head with her free hand and straightened it in her teeth, then passed it out through the gap in the bars.

  Lily bit her lip, concentrating. Robert held his breath.

  There was a scritch and a scratch, then—

  Tink!

  “Drat,” she said. “I dropped it.” She stamped her foot, and stared at him. “Well? Aren’t you going to help me?”

  He felt guilty then. None of this was her fault. Not really. They’d all been hurt by those men. She was right, he should at least try and do something to get them out of here. He pulled his penknife from where it was tucked inside his sock and handed it to her. “Here, try this instead.”

  Lily examined it. “The blades are too big. How have you still got this anyway?”

  He shrugged. “I hid it earlier, in my sock. It’s been pretty uncomfortable there, actually.” He rubbed his ankle. “If only Malkin could get the key for us.”

  “Of course!” Lily twirled him around. “Malkin’s still waiting! MALKIN!” she shouted through the door grate.

  “He’ll never hear you,” Robert grumbled. “He’s too far away. Besides, he’s probably run down by now.”

  Lily ignored him. She wiped her coal-blackened fingers on her silk dress, put them in her mouth and whistled.

  Robert thought it was probably the loudest wolf whistle in the world. But, instead of a wolf, they got…

  Malkin. He shot across the yard in a red streak, and jumped up at the door. His red snout poked between the bars, pushing until his whole head fitted through the gap.

  “Got yourself into a spot of bother?” he asked sniffily. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell you in a moment,” Lily said. “But you need to get us out of here.”

  “I see,” Malkin said. “Now you need my help.”

  “The key’s
on the hook, over there.” She pointed across the yard.

  “First you have to apologize,” he told her.

  “What?” she spluttered.

  The fox licked at his black forepaw. “Because you said I was too scruffy to come inside. You’ve had a wash and brush-up, I see.”

  “There isn’t time for this,” Lily cried, exasperated. “Besides, it wasn’t me who said you were scruffy, it was that butler.”

  “You didn’t disagree with him though,” Robert chimed in.

  “Precisely,” the fox snapped, “and now look where you are.”

  “Fine. I’m sorry,” Lily said. “Get the keys, would you?”

  “As you wish.”

  Malkin stepped over to the wall and jumped and snapped at the key on its nail. It was unreachable. He’d have to leap much higher to snatch it.

  He looked around. Some old barrel kegs were stacked in a corner.

  Malkin butted one over with his head. His tail drooped as he rolled it towards the hanging key. Then he hopped up onto the side of the barrel, and…

  Jumped!

  This time he managed to snap his teeth round the bottom of the key. It fell from its hook, and Malkin caught it in his mouth, before collapsing in a heap on the floor.

  “Thank heaven.” Lily thrust her hand through the bars of the shed. “Now, quick, bring it here!”

  Malkin jumped up and dropped the key into her palm, and she reached down and undid the padlock.

  As soon as she stepped from the shed, she bent down and kissed his nose, and Robert crowded in and stroked his head. “Malkin, you’re a cat-burgling genius!” he whispered.

  “Yes, Malkin!” Lily murmured, scratching the fox’s fluffy ears. “You are a genius! I shall write to Jack Door of your exploits. He’s bound to immortalize you in his next burglary book.”

  Malkin gave a protesting yap. “Enough messing. We have to go.”

  Lily took the winder from round his neck and wound him.

  “No,” she said. “You have to. Find Anna, and ask for her help. Robert and I are going back inside for Papa.”

  Malkin’s dark eyes widened, and his whiskers twitched. “John’s in the house?”