Steamy Cogs

by Jessica Ripley

  “If they’d only listened to me,” James muttered. “All of it could’ve been mechanized. No people at all.”

  “Why is he using men? If you could’ve made machines that were programmed to fight, I mean.” Freddie jiggled one of his long legs.

  “Because the machines are only as good as the people who tell them what to do. Think about your day. How many conscious decisions do you make? Did you think, just then, about stubbing out your cigarette and lighting another? Or did you just do it? An auto jumps the curb and careens towards you. Do you think about getting out of the way? No. And we don’t know enough yet to program machines to make decisions that quickly.”

  “Still, if both sides had machines…” Freddie said.

  “But that’s the thing. He knows the old ways are immovable. The people in power don’t want to change. They’re still fighting against Napoleon. So, Brice puts mechanized men against regular men. We’re harder to destroy. We’re much more difficult to kill. As long as my brain isn’t damaged, I live. My body can always be replaced. But I can improvise. I can blend in. And thanks to me, they’ll always follow orders because they’re programmed in.”

  “How do they program brains? Is it like mesmerism?” Freddie asked.

  “How much do you know of computational theory?” James asked them.

  “You mean like Byron’s daughter’s work?” Faith asked. “A little, but I’m no expert.” Freddie made a so-so gesture.

  “Like the heart, the brain is affected by electricity. So, Brice controls thoughts, areas of the brain, with electrical impulses. He’s created a kind of language that talks to the brain and overwrites it,” James said. As he spoke, he rubbed his forehead.

  “And what about you? Were you programmed?” Faith asked.

  “No. He needed me to create the programs. At first, I didn’t understand what I was creating. I thought it was for machines. Not people. And then— well, he’d threatened to kill me. And I was weak. I didn’t want to die.”

  “No one blames you for surviving, my dear fellow. You know, my dear,” Freddie turned to Faith, “we really ought to call E.”

  “No. No more people can know. Just fix me up and I’ll be gone,” James said. “I don’t know why I even told you.” Faith knew, though. His story had built up inside him until the dam burst and it all came tumbling out.

  “Our trustworthy faces, I expect,” Freddie said.

  “E was our boss,” Faith said, putting her hand on James’ shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “During the war, we spied for him. He’ll know what to do. And he knows how to keep secrets. That’s his business. You can’t take on a whole army alone.”

  A few hours ago she had no idea that a person like James existed. She’d read about automatons before, but the experts said automatons were impossible. Now, she and Freddie were planning how James could rescue himself and others like him. She’d let herself forget how fast life could change.

  Over James’ head, she traded a look with Freddie. They were ready to get in again. They never spoke about it, but they had loved every terrifying moment in the field and they missed it.

  While Freddie phoned E, Faith made tea. Out of habit, she gave James a cup. He stirred it, his spoon tinkling against the cup. He didn’t look at her, but instead kept looking at the plaster casts of mangled faces.

  “I looked worse than that,” he said. “There was hardly anything of me left to save. But I was alive, so they snatched me and took me back to save me.”

  She ate a biscuit and considered what to say to that. On one hand, he had survived. Who wouldn’t take that chance? On the other hand, he’d been stolen and his body was gone. He blamed himself for taking the chance at life. She decided not to say anything.

  Eventually, E came, bringing with him the smell of rain, wet wool and pipe tobacco. He already had a notch in his teeth Faith could see when he smiled. Years of clenching a pipe stem in his teeth most of his waking hours had worn matching grooves in his front molars, top and bottom on one side. Faith’s grandfather had sported a similar notch. E was just a little bit older than her, but she remembered when they were all much younger and he had seemed so much worldlier than either her or Freddie. He pulled his leather gloves off and set them down. Every movement was methodical. He liked to draw a moment out.

  “So, Mr. Paige. You did very fine work in programming as I recall. If we had smarter men in charge, we could have very well avoided a lot of this mess by listening to you,” E said.

  “How? How could you know that?” James asked. He reached out for Faith’s hand and squeezed it. With his smooth features and stillness, it was hard to tell what he was thinking, but Faith would have put money on him being scared.

  “Oh, he knows everything,” Freddie said with a smile. E rolled his eyes.

  “Not everything. Almost everything.” E held out his hand. “Forgive me. I forget my manners at work. Mr. Paige, I’m Granville Eads. These two call me E out of habit. We don’t use names, you know.” James shook E’s hand. E nodded. He judged a man by his handshake and Faith read his approval in that small nod. “Now, tell me everything you know.”

  Faith didn’t want to hear the story again. It was worse every time she heard it. People might think it would be a great thing to be saved, as James had been saved, when all hope for life is lost. But Faith wasn’t sure. To be changed like that, without choosing it, would be a nightmare. And did it mean that James was now essentially immortal?

  While James recited his story for E, Faith put a note on their door saying due to illness they were closed for the day. Then she bolted the door.

  James drew a map of the estate that E studied for quite a long time, hands in his hair so that his normally smooth, neatly placed style was awash in cowlicks. Faith could see the calculations in E’s head, almost as if he too were run on clockwork.

  Faith took a chance to stand and move and offered to make tea for them all. When she came back, she heard the murmur of voices stop. “This one,” E tipped his head towards Freddie, “has been keeping secrets. Did you know he turned down a job?”

  Faith rubbed her eyes. Her brain was full and working away on the problem before them. The room was fogged with smoke from Freddie’s cigarettes and E’s pipe. Without answering E, she went around the cluster of men and opened a window. It was cold, but the air was wet and fresher than in the studio.

  “Job?” She asked.

  “Yes. From Dr. Brice, our Frankenstein. Seems he’s looking for skilled artists to help him at his private hospital. He’s rebuilding damaged soldiers and he thought of his old friend from medical school.”

  “That’s an unbelievable coincidence.”

  “Well, it would be. If our friend had turned up without knowing what he’d find here. But he knew.”

  “I didn’t know you were spies,” James said. “I just knew I could get fixed up here.” He sighed.

  E turned to Faith. “What do you think? You were always my best strategist.”

  “Right, this is what we’ll do. I’m afraid if we go in too hard, Brice will have a chance to destroy any work. And even with the new armour we’ve developed, the losses on our side would be too high if Brice had the chance to activate his army. You,” Faith pointed at James, “will go disguised as him.” She pointed at Freddie.

  “But Brice knows us both. It’ll have to be a hell of a disguise,” James said.

  “Well, you were so kind to bring us that skin formula that you nicked before you made your great escape. I’ll mix it up in a jiffy,” Freddie said, taking up the paper that James had left on the worktable.

  “And I can make you a new face,” Faith replied. “Your hair is close enough to the same colour and Brice hasn’t seen Freddie since before the war. Then you can give the automatons new orders, grab any research you can and get the hell out. Then E’s men will move in,” Faith was getting excited. She could see it all in her mind.

  “And then what?” James asked. Faith looked to E. How would her plan end?

&
nbsp; E sighed. “Brice will be arrested. Treason, likely. The automatons—we’ll have to seize them.”

  “And?” James pressed his lips tightly together.

  E and Freddie flicked their gaze towards each other.

  “They exist in violation of the Artificial Persons Act. We’ll likely deactivate them,” E said.

  “And me?” James asked. His smooth face was hard to read. Faith guessed he was angry, but anger was so often a veneer over fear. His hands were clenched into fists.

  Freddie’s hand moved towards E’s and just barely brushed it. Freddie’s gaze was fixed on the tabletop. He pulled his hand away from E’s and toyed with his teaspoon. “James,” Freddie said so softly that Faith barely heard him.

  “I didn’t ask for this,” James said. “And I don’t want there to be another, worse war. But I don’t want to linger in some government office, getting poked and prodded until someone in an office somewhere decides that I’ve been of use and deactivates me.”

  Faith wanted to take his hands and help those angry fists relax. But, like Freddie, she stared down at the table and toyed with her teaspoon.

  “I know something about life in violation of the law,” E said. “I’ll do what I can, but my hands may be tied. I’m asking you to put the good of the nation ahead of yourself. It’s a lot to ask.”

  James ran his hands over his face. “I was never going to say no. He must be stopped.”

  “He’ll need someone with him to cover him while he works,” Faith said. “We can’t send him alone. Not if Brice could possibly control him.”

  “Faith, you’ll go with James. You were invited, in a manner of speaking,” E laughed. “As his wife.”

  “As Cecily?” Faith asked. She started to laugh.

  “You’re married? Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t seem like the type,” James said. E coughed to disguise a laugh. James was more perceptive than most.

  “As it happens I am. Cissy and I have an understanding. It was a beautiful way to get our parents to let us alone. A good cover needs to be believable. Oh, stop laughing.” Freddie shoved E’s shoulder. “She and her dear friend Milly have the most darling little cottage in the Cotswolds. I’m here in London and our families all get to pretend we’re happily coupled. People want to believe a lie if it’s more comfortable than the truth. Anyway, Dr. Brice heard about my wife so, he invited us both.”

  After mixing up the formula and patching James’ face, Freddie got on the telephone to move appointments around and send some of their consults over to Francis Wood at the Third London General Hospital to give Faith time to sculpt a perfect likeness of Freddie.

  At the end of the day, E and Freddie took James home with them and Faith went home alone. Usually, she enjoyed her solitude, but leaving the group behind to go home alone was hard. She had missed being part of a team more than she’d been willing to admit to herself.

  That night, in her small room, Faith found she couldn’t sleep. Her memory kept going back in time to the war. She took out her sketchbook and began to draw. At first, she doodled faces she’d seen on the tram. But soon, she began to draw James. She wondered what he’d look like with a real smile. So she drew it. When she was done, she ran her fingers lightly over her work, softening the pencil lines a little.

  She admired his resolve. It would have been easy for him to escape and keep running forever. But he was heading back to his former prison. He was beyond brave.

  When her fight was over, she had got to go home and to create a life for herself. And she had done it. Faith didn’t do a single thing she didn’t want to do these days. But James hadn’t had that chance. She wanted to give him that chance. He deserved to enjoy the second chance he’d been given.

  Faith wanted to make him smile like in her drawing. It wasn’t fair what had happened to him. She threw her sketchbook down on the floor and flopped back into her single bed. This was the life she chose. It was a good life. She didn’t need to consider anyone but herself. Still. What would it be like to kiss James? Would his skin warm up? His hand had been cold, but then he’d just come in from outside. Could he...?

  Freddie’s laughing eyes came to her mind. After sending a recent suitor packing, she’d told Freddie that she was quite done with men and she had almost meant it.

  Freddie had laughed and said, “Excuse me, but that’s a lie. I know you. You are not made for a life of celibacy. You couldn’t even manage it in the middle of a war! Lie to yourself, but please don’t lie to me, your oldest, dearest friend.”

  2

  Creating a new face took weeks. James did his best to conceal his impatience, but Faith could feel his tension as she worked with him. It was intimate work. Usually, she could keep a distance from her clients. There were a few, if she’d been less professional, she would have taken up with. James, though, made her nervous. Around him, Faith dropped tools and spilled paint. She laughed at everything he said. It wasn’t just that he was handsome. He trusted her and never questioned her abilities.

  The first day, James showed her where the joins for his face were hidden in his hairline. He didn’t look at her as she peeled his face away from the underlying structure. If he could have closed his eyes, Faith knew he would have.

  Laid on her worktable, his face was a grotesque, fleshy mask. James looked at it once and turned away. “I never even thought I could make myself a whole new face,” he said. “I should have asked the doctor to make me more handsome.”

  Faith bit her tongue. More handsome? That would have been unfair. “Did he base it on what you looked like—before?”

  James nodded. “Somewhat. As much as he could. You probably noticed that it’s not very detailed work.” He sighed. “I don’t miss shaving. I’ll say that. But it’d be nice to look less like a doll.”

  He looked over at his face again. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it over his face. “It was staring at me,” he said, a smile in his voice. Clockwork gears whirred behind his metal bones. Here and there, he had rubber knobs that stood in for the muscle that helped shape his skin into his face.

  To help him relax, Faith covered his lidless eyes with patches while she took a cast of his skinless face.

  While she worked, James explained how he worked. She didn’t understand everything he told her, but she knew he wanted to tell someone. It was a test. A lot of clients did this. They wanted to know if they horrified her.

  If anything, his inner workings sounded beautiful. Dr. Brice had brought in a team of watchmakers from Switzerland to perfect his automatons. Other scientists had made automatons before, but they’d been crude things, capable only of a bare imitation of humanity.

  “I’m full of jewels,” James said. “I’m like a very fine watch. You’d probably get a good bit of money for me, you know.”

  Faith laughed. “It sounds romantic. Running on jewels, instead of squishy bits.”

  Freddie also submitted to a cast of his face. It was difficult to get him to sit still and not talk. Faith threatened to chloroform him in order to make him more cooperative. He joked about the joys of a twilight sleep. In the end, she had to threaten to bring in E.

  The casts looked rather like death masks. Or rather, Freddie’s looked like a death mask and James’ looked like some weird medieval sculpture about death. A skull with a full nose looked wrong, too human, but also too alien.

  “How observant is this Dr. Brice?” Faith asked James. “How well do you know him? How well does he know you?

  “Well, enough. I was his right-hand man. His pet. I’m the first one that really worked.” He laughed but his laugh edged towards a sob. “He treated me almost as if I were his son.”

  “He hasn’t seen Freddie in over ten years. But will he recognize your voice?”

  James shrugged. “I don’t think so. I don’t think he ever really listened to me.”

  Over the next couple of weeks, James sat beside her while she worked. He had nowhere else to go. Freddie and E had told him he could cons
ider their house as his own, but James never seemed comfortable by himself. He wore his old face while he waited for her to create his Freddie mask.

  “When this is done, I could make you new… everything,” Faith said. “I could replace your skin and make you as you remember you looked. Right down to the smallest freckle, every hair. I can put in smile lines and frown lines.”

  “Why?” He asked. “Why would you do that?” For a moment, she was lost before she picked up the thread of conversation. She didn’t want to say why she wanted to make him as he’d been. James was an imperfect replica of himself and he deserved more.

  “Because, he took it away from you,” she said.

  “We’ll see.” He bit his lip. She wanted to bite that lip or have his perfect teeth on her lips. “I’m illegal. E isn’t sure if any of the automatons can be spared. Including me.”

  “But he’s working on it. He’s got—connections to people in power. Don’t lose hope,” Faith said. It was cold in the room. She blew on her hands.

  “I don’t mind. I’ve been on borrowed time. But some of the others—I don’t know if they even know they’re automatons. They deserve a choice, at any rate.”

  “I mind,” Faith said. James turned to her. They were sitting close to each other. They leaned closer to each other. Faith held her breath and tilted her face up to his. His lips were parted, his eyes half-closed. They were so close to each other that her breath ruffled his hair.

  “Fido!” Freddie shouted as he burst through the door. James leaned away from Faith and picked up his book. “I have presents for you! Oh, did I interrupt a tête à tête?”