The Ghost Engine

by Theresa Fuller

  “No, it’s me, and I’ll prove it. I know why the metal forest was created. To distract you from me.”

  “There’s a second reason!” Berd inched closer.

  The doppelganger inched closer, too. “Of course. The first was really a red herring.”

  Charles sat back on his knees, alarmed.

  Berd and the doppelganger chorused in unison, “Gine stopping me from finding the Mill.”

  Their words merely caused Charles’s already haggard face to crease further in confusion. His breathing was ragged and as they moved forward, he moved back and pushed his messy hair out of his eyes.

  Nothing like this had every happened before, and Berd stilled, unsure how to proceed. The doppelganger stilled also. Both had their hands pressed against their chests, and Berd was sure the horrified expression on the doppelganger’s face was the exact same as on her own.

  She frowned at the creature and the creature frowned back.

  “Tramp,” Berd said, and the doppelganger gasped.

  “I am not!”

  Berd smirked.

  All the while Charles’s desperate gaze darted from her to the doppelganger. He couldn’t tell them apart! That scoundrel! To go after her so hard and then not be able to tell her apart from a twin!

  The doppelganger’s voice shrilled louder and louder, growing more and more insistent. “But of course, there’s the third reason. I know the third reason.”

  It was Berd’s turn to be incredulous. The third reason, she knew of no third reason.

  “Charles, please! It’s me.” Berd’s voice was a whisper against the din of the doppelganger’s. The yap, yap, yapping of the doppelganger, like a clockwork toy newly wound, jarred every thought, but it was from her whisper, close to his ear, from which he flinched.

  “It’s me. I know all three reasons why Gine created the forest of metal trees,” said the doppelganger, its voice nice and strong and loud. Then it dispensed with all its earlier insistence and instead gazed calmly at Charles, exactly the way Berd had done.

  Berd was starting to wonder if Gine could read her mind. Regardless, he must have been fine tuning the doppelganger even as it proceeded onward with its mission. Berd could think of nothing to say, and she shook her head, frustrated. Unless she did something, the doppelganger had won. And then Gine no doubt would do away with her like an erroneous line of code.

  She had to persuade Charles.

  The answer came, and she gasped, blinded by its simplicity. It was the only method she knew to persuade Charles it was her. Only it wasn’t an easy undertaking and her body seemed to swirl into smoke at the thought of carrying it out.

  She would have to give him the kiss he had wanted for so long.

  Berd had never kissed a boy before. Not in that fashion. Not ever. If it was anything else but this!

  But she had to. As Charles continued to look bewildered, between her and her double, she knew with certainty what she had to do, and her resolve solidified.

  I have to do this.

  Charles eyed her suspiciously as she leaned forward. Her heart beat wildly. Her arms were marble. Her waist was stone. She shut her eyes, squeezed her lips together tight as she struggled against her inhibitions. Perspiration plastered her hair to her throat. She was sure Charles was laughing at her. He probably thought her forward.

  Before she knew it, their lips connected, only it was not the reaction she had hoped for.

  His lips bit with electricity!

  Berd jerked back with the dry sting of electricity ringing through her from finger to toe! She screamed. Her lips were burning, alternately scorched and then frozen. Her mouth stung as if filled with burning coal. This must be some new trick of Gine’s to stop her from convincing Charles.

  Her gaze flew to Charles, frantic. Her evident negative reaction to him could not have made him happy.

  Through her chaos, Charles was smiling. Only his eyes were now green.

  It was Gine.

  And it had been Gine all along.

  Out of the corner of her eye, the doppelganger stared dumfounded at what was happening.

  “He’s dead. You’ve actually killed him,” Berd stammered, reeling as if her heart had been ripped in half.

  “Nonsense, he’s alive. Look!” Gine pointed over to his left.

  The world levelled physically as a figure stepped out from behind one of the legs of a book stack about a hundred yards away.

  “Charles!” Berd shouted.

  At her scream, the figure looked at her, then at the doppelganger beside her. It certainly looked like Charles, at the very least.

  Gine stood and bowed, dusting himself off. “Princess, I won’t offer a hand as I know you won’t take it, but I would hurry if I were you. She knows what the real Berd would do to persuade Charles to her.”

  Berd scrambled to her feet. Even before Gine vanished away the doppelganger had lifted up her skirts and was racing away to the figure in black.

  The real Charles.

  Chapter Fifteen

  IT WAS A nightmare.

  Again the doppelganger reached Charles first. This time it said nothing as it stood before him, but looked at Charles as though joyful to have him returned to the land of the living. Berd did not doubt that it would even go so far as to tell him it loved him. Or kiss…

  Strength ebbed from Berd and she was cold, so cold, as she came panting up behind them, her hands on her sides and her head bowed as she sucked in deep breaths.

  Blast that Gine! He knew exactly how to trick Charles. Even kissing wasn’t going to work this time.

  Charles’s blue eyes were bright with wretchedness as he stared from her to the doppelganger, the doppelganger that seemed to be made of flesh.

  Berd brushed her fingers through her hair. They caught, stuck in the tangled mess that seemed to have ballooned around her head like a lion’s mane... A bone-white chemise flashed through the rips and burns of her mauve silk blouse. She lifted her hands to her face, only to discover she was curving them.

  The doppelganger spoke, its voice nice and strong as Berd’s. “It’s me. I know all three reasons as to why Gine created the forest of metal trees.”

  Then the doppelganger leaned forward stiffly. Its lips puckered, its eyes shut.

  Had I looked that awkward when I’d done it? Oh, Lord alive…

  Charles cleared his throat, eyes wide and frantic then took a wary step back.

  “So, you know all three reasons why Gine created the forest of metal trees,” Berd said, her voice raw with emotion, as the doppelganger leaned towards the man.

  It nodded primly, its lips inches from Charles’s. Its eyes closed.

  “Good!” Berd gave a vicious shove, and the doppelganger fell to one side.

  It was surprisingly light. It collapsed, crashing to the ground like a toppling tree. There hadn’t even been any flailing of arms, but Berd didn’t wait to see what happened to it. She’d had enough of Gine’s little games.

  “And you,” Berd accused the figure that looked like Charles with a pointed finger, “you’re not Charles!”

  She swivelled away from it and would have crashed into another figure, this one standing right behind her, had not two hands reached out to grasp her firmly, steadying her.

  Berd barely noticed the pressure on her upper arms, because she was staring into eyes so blue she was lost in them. She didn’t need the hint of any aroma to tell her who this was.

  Now she knew that deep down she would never have thought Gine was him.

  “Are you all right, princess?” Charles’s voice burred.

  Her heart began to hammer. And for one intense moment as he reached down, she thought he was going to kiss her—

  He grasped her hand.

  “Run!” He pulled her along, and they were running again.

  She glanced back at the spot where the doppelgangers had been, but both body doubles were gone. No doubt they had disappeared back into the Engine. She snuck a peek at Charles, but he was looking
straight ahead. Her heart beat faster but she knew it wasn’t solely because of the exertion. And she was warm, but again she didn’t think it was all because of the running...

  Their run this time was nothing compared to the wild madness earlier, their pace distinctly slower. They could have conversed, and there was nothing chasing them — no bits, no disrupted earth. Yet, she sensed Charles was putting every ounce of strength he had into moving. He slowed even further as they reached the nearest book stack and then, to her horror, he tripped over his feet and pulled her down, tumbling into a heap together. As soon as her head cleared, she pushed herself up from the reflective floor, expecting Charles to follow, or to give her a hand, only he remained on the ground, his dark hair damp, and his eyes closed.

  “No... No! Charles!” Her voice wavered, thinning away in the twilight of the Engine.

  There was no response. He stayed exactly as he had landed, his eyes shut and his head turned aside. Hesitantly, Berd placed her hand on his cheek. The skin was cold and clammy.

  “Charles!” she screamed again, her hands desperately shaking his inert body. He jiggled back and forth like a massaged piece of meat, but did not stir; as soon as her hands ceased their movement so did he. Berd sat back on her heels, unsure of what to do. His breathing was ragged. His eyes fluttered, opening long enough for her to see they had turned silver, and then closed again.

  He was dying.

  At first she thought the shudder she felt was her grief and shock, but then a shadow passed over her. Another deep metallic groan and shockwaves went through the ground. The book stacks were moving.

  Berd jumped to her feet, hooking her arms around Charles. They had to get out of the way before a book stack trod on them. She tried to lift, then to drag him, anything, to shift him out of the way of those monstrous giants. But she failed.

  The ground trembled. Charles’s head lolled from side to side. Berd, on her knees, had to brace herself with her hands, palms flattened against the green enamel floor or risk falling forward. Shadows swayed back and forth. The ground crunched and shook as a large column landed with an explosion of force, barely ten yards away.

  Charles was simply too heavy. She had just about given up trying to roll him, when a voice nearby cursed.

  Gine.

  She almost wept in relief when she heard it.

  “You pretty little fools!” Gine swore as he bore down.

  Had Gine appeared at any other time she would have flown at him, but as he scooped Charles up into his arms, Berd saw him solely as a rescuer. Gine ducked under the leg of one of the monstrous nook stacks. Berd hesitated then followed, her heart in her throat.

  No matter what Gine had attempted before, all was forgiven so long as he saved Charles. Gine, the god in the image of the man, strode away carrying his creator. Berd followed, praying that whatever Gine had in mind, it wouldn’t be too late.

  In minutes, they were in the elevator of one of the book stacks, travelling up. Gine had taken control of it, moving it without the help of buttons. It was difficult to look at Gine and not see Charles as he gazed silently in her direction, but she had to thank him.

  In the dying light, Gine’s black lashes glittered with tears.

  Berd took a step back. “You— you really love him, don’t you?”

  “I’m an engine. What is an engine supposed to know about love?” He replied, soft and bitter.

  That was true enough. She glanced away, unsure.

  “He loves you,” Gine said simply. His eyes, steady and begrudging, burned into her when she looked up.

  Berd folded her arms, but her voice was a whisper. “You weren’t trying to kill him. Or me.”

  He snorted. “Back on the subject of killing again? You certainly do have a one-track mind.”

  She thought she detected a trace of laughter in his tone. “That horde of bits on the plain ... I thought we were running for our lives, but you were simply trying to save Charles from dying. Surround him with energy so he would be tempted to partake.”

  Gine’s gaze shifted down to Charles where his gaze softened. “Stubborn fool.”

  “Like someone else I know,” Berd said. “You were trying to provide him with energy. I wondered why we were never actually hit.”

  “You’ll make me a pair of wings next and then I’ll have to hide my horns.” He rolled his eyes, but a corner of his mouth twitched up.

  It was all beginning to make sense. “My incident with my doppelganger...”

  Gine said nothing, only pushed his lower lip out. She found herself noting the shape of his mouth — Charles’s mouth — yet somehow ... different. Gine continued to study her, and Charles, in his arms, did not stir.

  She spoke slowly, as the pieces fell into place. “You wouldn’t have created that doppelganger of me simply so that Charles could tell the difference between it and me. It’s too obvious. Though the doppelganger was flesh, it wasn’t me. I don’t look like that...”

  Gine’s eyes only widened provocatively as if daring her to continue. The space outside slid by, and the mechanical whir of levers and pulleys continued.

  “Oh stop it. I know you enjoy watching me squirm.” She rubbed her chin, no longer afraid of him. “So was it to see if I could tell the difference between the real you and him?”

  The mechanical man gave a little laugh. “You obviously failed there. I mean ... you did kiss ... me.” His eyes caught hers, and the curious sensation of drowning in green returned.

  Kiss me. Kiss... Berd shook the stupor off then clapped her hands together. “I know! You did it to get me to kiss Charles. That was it. That was the real reason all along. But ha! He fooled you.”

  “Well...” Gine’s nostrils flared slightly, a flicker of reluctant admiration in his voice. “Ever think that maybe I would want to kiss you?”

  A pause.

  “That can’t be true.”

  Gine raised an eyebrow. “Maybe Charles was right. There is something in you after all.” He shrugged, shifting Charles a bit.

  The door to the elevator opened, and cold, lavender-scented air pressed upon her sweat-drenched body, causing a shiver to go through her.

  Gine strode into the ice-blue room as if he were the master of the place, carrying Charles in his arms. Somehow his shoulders seemed broader than the man’s had ever been. Easily, he deposited Charles on the metallic floor, but as Berd stepped off the elevator, he stood, and began running his fingers through his jet hair. Had she not known Gine any better, she would have sworn he was nervous, but this was his domain.

  “Charles will recover if you give him water. At this stage, he’s merely suffering from the effects of dehydration.” Gine’s tone was emotionless as he stared down at Charles.

  Berd nodded. She had, after all, drained the bladder.

  Gine placed one of his palms flat on the wall, watching as the water rippled over his fingers and hand. “And yes, what is stored here is water, not energy. Not that to become like me would be so terrible a fate, would it?”

  “I am in your debt, Gine,” she said.

  He swivelled to face her. Watery reflections played upon his features, revealing a sudden vulnerability until he twirled one finger arrogantly in the air and pointed at her. “Before I go, how did you tell us apart that second time?”

  It was only her disgust with Charles’s inability to pick them apart that had alerted her to the fact it might not have been him, but merely another ploy. It had been a guess, but something inside her screamed not to reveal this fact to Gine. Berd gave the most confident laugh she could. “Are you trying to tell me, I wouldn’t know the real you?”

  A roguish smile spread across Gine’s face, brightening him as if the dawn had come. “Touche!” Gine crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her lazily, as he leaned against the wall. “You’d better beware your tongue, my lady. We could end up mutually admiring each other. And that would be dangerous.” He spoke the last word as if it were a promise, his eyes shimmering twin emeralds as seen be
neath the surface of a lake.

  She frowned, unsure what he was alluding to. He was pushing himself back into the wall when she shook herself and called out. “Wait! Gine! I have a question.”

  He stopped and reversed out. No matter how many times she had seen him do this, her stomach still turned each time it happened — his skin taking on the colour of whatever he was touching.

  “What is it, my lady?” He frowned, as if he were in a great hurry and she was holding him up.

  “Why did you rescue me?”

  Gine cocked his head at Charles. “Ah, why don’t you ask him?” he challenged.

  Charles? Berd swung her gaze onto his prone figure on his side. When she turned back, Gine was gone. Only clear water rippled down the blue walls while the scent of lavender pressed upon her face like a cold towel.

  So all along Charles was responsible for rescuing her. Yet he had never mentioned it. Even as she asked herself the question, she remembered his dire need of water. She should not have spent minutes talking! Pray she was not too late to save him.

  She ran over to the walls, washed her dusty hands in the cascade, scooped some up and then hurried back to Charles. His face was pallid, and she had to lift his head onto her knee in order to get the water into him without drowning him. It took several trips and many long minutes before she was able to get any water into him.

  “Charles?” She watched anxiously.

  In the end, she had to cradle his head in the crook of one arm to do so. She had just managed to rest his upper body partially on her lap when his lashes fluttered and he spluttered and choked.

  He opened his eyes. They were silver-rimmed, as if he had woken from a beautiful dream. As she stared, the glazed expression disappeared and a sharpened one settled on her.

  Heat flared up her throat. They were too close. She let go his head and it hit the ground.

  “Ow!”

  “I’m sorry!” she slapped her hand over her mouth then reached out to help only he waved her away, rubbing the sore spot on his head vigorously.