The Ghost Engine

by Theresa Fuller

  Her ears were ringing. Her balance shot. Then the front half of the stack dipped and reared upwards like a prancing horse, and she was slipping and sliding, fighting desperately not to lose her grip. For if she did, there was nothing to keep her on the platform. Charles, at least, had his chair.

  The whole stack shook as it righted itself. Clouds of metallic dust pocked the air. On her knees and sobbing now that it was over, she pressed her nose to her sleeve to help her breathe, and prayed their stack did not disintegrate.

  It held. But it was far from over. She expected Charles to make a run for it, but with great precision, he did the opposite. He reversed.

  He was crazy! “What are you doing!”

  Charles was already moving their stack to the left. He smashed their stack into the line which toppled to the ground like dominoes. The shock of each mighty collapse slammed like a hand into her chest and her head jerked back repeatedly. She did not think she could take much more punishment, but as each stack thundered to the ground and promptly burst into violent red-and-yellow flames, her screams of fear turned into whoops of joy. Burning paraffin fumes curtained the air, shimmering rainbow auroras.

  Charles did the same manoeuvre to the right. Even better, he kept their stack stable as he learnt swiftly how to handle the one he steered. The ground shook and shuddered as the massive structures slammed into the green enamel. Water from boilers spilled onto the ground. Steam hissed upwards.

  But the stacks were down.

  Breathless, she watched as he navigated them out of the danger zone. He manoeuvred to the right, but as he did so, she knew their escape had been too easy. Gine was planning something else. Something more deadly. This attack had merely been a warning: Gine observing how they operated for future record.

  You’ve taught me well, Gine.

  Lights from the Mill blazed, a Milky Way of stars about half a mile off when Charles slowed the stack. He turned the motor off for the explosions were now behind them. After the constant shuddering and sound, the silence screamed in her ears.

  When he pulled her onto his lap, she saw his cheek was gashed and bleeding. She raised her hand to touch his face, but he caught it and pressed it to his lips. His eyes closed for a second and a muscle in his jaw twitched. Then he opened his eyes and gazed into her face, studying every detail of her features. He gently touched the scabs on her bruised lips.

  “How I have hurt you. You should hate me. Not have come back,” he whispered, pained.

  “I had to.” She could not look at him, suddenly unaccountably shy.

  But even as he pressed a kiss upon her forehead, the ground shook. Something or some things large were heading their way. Yes, Gine had other plans.

  But this may be hers and Charles’s last moment together. She did not want to rush it. His skin was flushed from the activity of the drive, but chilled thanks to the frigid air. She pressed her lips to his temple where the hair was damp around the hairline and under the sweat, she smelt metal. That explained the liberal application of eau de cologne. She bit her lower lip, held back the tears.

  As if he sensed her grief, he wrapped his arms around her. Though it was obvious they were still in danger, his whole focus was on her. His voice was sunshine. “Why?”

  “B— because you weren’t in that other world.”

  Charles groaned. “Gine is not going to let us out again.”

  “He did once—”

  “Only because he thought I was dying.”

  It was true then; Charles really had been dying. She stared down at the ground. “Because of me.”

  “No. No! Of course not.” He embraced her tighter. As if in imitation the walls of the stack creaked. A rivet popped out. The stack could not hold up much longer.

  It had been her fault. “It was the water. A short-circuit—”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “So what do we do now?” She felt him hold his breath then release it slowly.

  He spoke carefully. “I want to take you to the Faraday—”

  “No!” So that’s why he had stopped the stack.

  “Please, my darling. You have no idea the dilemma I underwent last night. How much I wanted to see you again. I lost you then. Back there I lost you a second time. I cannot—”

  “You did what you did because you love me.”

  He swore softly, but when he looked into her face, his sapphire eyes were gentle. “You should have remained at your aunt’s.”

  He had sent her away for her own safety. “I can help you. Let me help you.”

  “You have no idea how strong Gine has become.”

  “I saw the circles of statuary,” she answered stubbornly.

  The rumblings were louder now.

  The walls shuddered.

  He cupped her cheeks. “He’s capable of more than just pulling in things that are connected to him, do you understand?”

  She nodded. The statue of Pan, though it wasn’t in the room with them, she had no doubt it was somewhere in the Engine. As were the other objects Gine had sucked in.

  Charles searched her face, his voice strained. “He’s been pulling in more people. That’s how he got so strong. Only he’s turned them into energy. He pulled in all the men that were sent for the Engine.”

  Gine had swallowed all those people and turned them into energy. And possibly Charles’s servants. The house had seemed rather bare. She pressed her hand into her stomach to stop from throwing up.

  “Maybe this will convince you I am wrong for you.” He tugged at the fingers of his gloves.

  “Nothing will.” But already she was scared.

  She longed to stop him, to tell him that no matter what she would always love him, but the words froze on her tongue as the gloves slid off for underneath his hand was full metal: stainless steel. He flexed his fingers and then tap-tapped the tips together. The clicks she heard reminded of some hideous clockwork apparition. Only this was alive. Living. Charles had become his own mons...

  No, she had to believe Charles was in there.

  Nausea rose in her. Before she could stop herself she had shuddered and gagged. She pressed her cold fingers against her mouth as she fought the horror coursing through her body.

  At her reaction, he smiled grimly. By now the shaking was so loud he had to yell. “So is my chest. Now do you understand?”

  Her heart wrenched. “I love you,” she squeezed the words out.

  He closed his eyes then opened them and in their clear reflection she saw his heart breaking. “You have no idea how long I have waited to hear you say those words, but you cannot mean it. You must not for your own sake. Do you not know I am half machine?”

  He was trying to tell her that to survive he would have to continue imbibing energy.

  He would become fully machine. An engine.

  The explosions were tiny pinpricks. The ground continued to shake. Or maybe it was only her.

  “It— it doesn’t matter. I still love you. It’s— it’s...” She reached out and placed her hand on his chest. She could feel no heartbeat. Charles’s chest neither rose nor fell. It was as cold as steel.

  He watched quietly.

  “It’s what’s inside,” she whispered.

  “What’s inside? I have no heart. Why else am I able to hurt you again and again.”

  “Then don’t make me leave you. You suffered. So did I. Don’t make me suffer any more! I can help you.”

  With precise movements, he pulled on his glove. He did not look at her.

  “You are planning to destroy Gine.”

  He said nothing as he buttoned up his glove, his movements deft.

  Beast! He was not going to give her any clues, but she persisted. “Before you do that you need to program Gine to save you and me. Use an AND GATE.”

  He halted and narrowed an eye at her. “An AND GATE?”

  She could tell he was impressed but trying not to show it. “Yes, when you destroy Gine, you are hoping Gine will remove me from the Engine as my l
ife will be in danger. But you can’t guarantee that will happen.”

  “I see.”

  “If you use an AND GATE to instruct Gine to save me AND you, and hardwire that instruction in the Mill or use an operation card or whatever it is that you do. Insert that within the Mill rather than in a stack, then we will be saved.” She tried not to gloat in her smile.

  “What about self-preservation?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Self-preservation. It’s what any animal uses to protect itself when in danger. Gine foresees a threat in me so he removes the threat.”

  “You are his master. He cannot—”

  “Bite the hand that...” Charles rubbed his chin tiredly. “What living creature would not kill in order to live?”

  Berd closed her eyes. She had not thought this possible, but the American War of Independence... the French Revolution. In history, even kings had lost their heads...

  “I don’t want Gine to see you as a threat and remove you, but if you are with me the likelihood is greater.”

  No, surely Gine would obey his programming. Charles had instructed Gine to do everything in his power to keep him alive. Hopefully that instruction was still intact in a stack that was not one of the wrecks burning on the plains behind them.

  She snapped open her eyes. It was clear now what she had to do. “Then I perish alongside you. I entered the Engine willingly. I will do what it takes. Besides, what if he doesn’t? Do you want me trapped inside the Engine forever?”

  “Or you’ll what? No, don’t tell me. After all only you were foolish enough to re-enter the Engine.” He slammed one fist into the steering wheel. “Well, what if we are trapped? Would you still love me if you could never leave the Engine? If I am all there is?”

  Trapped inside the Engine... She had entered the Engine in an attempt to win Charles back to her. She had won, in a way. Only she had placed him in danger. She had to get him out. But he was still trying to push her away. Gine had removed Charles from the Engine when he was close to dying. Charles’s plan to save them was to come close to dying once more, but Gine would not fall for such a trick again. Gine was smarter than that, but she doubted she could get Charles to see that.

  Only one thing to do: Reprogram Gine.

  Instruct him to save both of them and to remove them from the Engine immediately.

  She would make her way back to the Mill. “You win. I’ll wait here,” she lied. If she failed then at least she had divided Gine’s attention....

  Divide and conquer.

  Great plan of Gine’s, but he didn’t have a monopoly on it. She could use it, too.

  She could be bait.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  BERD SNATCHED A kiss from Charles’s lips and before he could respond, flew out to the elevator.

  “Berd!” he called. Though he had begged her to leave, anguish aged his face. She prayed he did not guess what she was about to undertake.

  “Go!” she demanded as she inhaled the tantalising taste of ginger. From now on, she would always associate ginger with grief. “Go! Don’t wait for me.”

  Charles clenched the steering wheel, nodded. His eyes were bright with unshed tears, his face pale and distant as the moon as he prepared to dance with Death once more.

  She had never loved him more.

  She pressed the ‘G’ button. When she looked back the door had already shut. Gone. This time she was leaving him. The ride was swift and when the door opened, she stumbled out. The hum was louder here on ground level. Noisier than before. She shivered. The dizzying fresh smell of pine made her blink rapidly, but to her surprise she was dry-eyed and excited.

  Clear of the stack, she turned around and waved. The top of the stack was a speck. She couldn’t see Charles but assumed he had seen her for in less than a minute the stack had rumbled back into motion and was lurching away to meet the other book stacks.

  The attacking army of book stacks.

  Hundreds of monstrous shadow crabs were scuttling forward on that ghoulish landscape. Pincerless. Amber sparks trailed the ground, the reek of copper and scorching melded with the smell of burnt pine.

  She turned away, not wishing to see the battle. She was also running out of time. If Charles failed, there would be no need to reprogram Gine. Charles had mentioned that he had instructed Gine to do whatever it had to do to save Charles’s life.

  She had to find where Charles had placed that instruction.

  If he had told her, she could not recall. The way she understood it, each computer engine basically performed one program. To change programs generally required modifying each engine itself or else inserting fresh cards via the punch reader until Charles came along with his novel ideas of storing past programs in secondary storage. Great innovation only it complicated matters, because it meant that the line of code to save his life could be anywhere.

  She doubted Charles would have been stupid enough to place it in a stack. It would mean uploading the program each time to run it. The instruction was too important. Charles would have to have placed it in the Mill. She did not think she needed to find the original instruction. Surely all she needed was to insert a new instruction: Save hers AND Charles’s lives.

  Then add one more: get them out.

  But if it was really that simple Charles would have done so a long time ago. What must have happened was that once Charles had started to execute the program, he was unable to halt its execution. Programs generally executed until the engine ran out of energy or the program finished or there was an error, but this Engine running out of energy meant the end of Charles. And the program never finished because Gine was constantly learning. Correcting any errors.

  Engines never allowed the addition of new instructions or the modification of current instructions until the program finished executing. Yet Charles had been able to add that extra instruction. She chewed her lip as she pondered how he had done so. Charles’s intelligence was making life complicated. The only conclusion she could come to was that after he added that command something must have happened to stop him modifying the program.

  Berd stepped onto moist ground that glowed seaweed green. She had almost reached the waterfall. Ahead the thick ribbon of fluorescent blue burned in the darkness like Jacob’s ladder. The waterfall’s sapphire light lit up the sides of the cliff face: a taper shining before a masque on a black-and-windless night. Not so long ago she had imagined angels dancing in the air, now silvered outlines of dead men floated in their place, the cold spray of the waterfall their salivary kisses pressed upon her brow. If the water had laughed before, now it wept.

  Then the ground leapt like a blanket, shaken as if spread out. She tumbled forward a couple of times before she rolled to a stop.

  Giant drops of boiling water seared the ground. Steam jetted into the air where they landed. A book stack must have collapsed!

  Berd screamed as one of the monster drops landed on her arm and scorching pain wracked her body. Clenching her teeth, she fought for control as bits of broken metal thudded, smashing the ground around her. She curled her body, cowered, and when the deluge lessened, pushed to her feet, relieved to hear the battle still raged behind her – Charles was alive.

  She scrambled forward, hugging her injured arm to her side, refusing to look behind. Smooth as a pane of glass, the waterfall was a window to another world: a vista that burned and boiled with a slow azure fire. Silver shimmered up from its depths, rising as the throbbing veins of insect wings carried the metamorphosing dead to new life.

  Berd’s wound, swollen from shoulder to elbow, chafed with every movement. Excruciating pain, made her eye the energy with hope, for she knew that energy would not just ease the pain but eradicate it, completely.

  As if the waterfall knew, the air before Berd thinned, quickening her progress while currents pushed, eddying at her from behind.

  Forward. Forward. Hurry. Hurry. Voices in her head called.

  She had to look behind the pane. She had to find ou
t. She had to. Any indecision dissolved into clouds, dissipating like cirrus on a stiff breeze. No conflict. No pain. No Charles. Not even Gine. Only beauty and love and peace. She was about to step behind the veil when a hand rested upon hers, frail as a baby’s breath. She looked up into familiar eyes: James.

  Berd’s scream broke the trance.

  “James!”

  No, not him! Not her brother!

  Her mind had been so much on Charles, that when she neared the Engine she had not thought through the consequences of her disappearance. What tortured her most was that Gine had not turned James into some tangible life-form, like he had done her and Charles.

  James was still dressed in his dove-coloured morning suit. He lifted a finger to his lips. His eyes were hollow, yet she could see the self-same determination in them when he jumped on Charles. The door of the Faraday car opened as he led her towards it. She urged him in, but he shook his head. Charles had mentioned that Gine could not enter. But for some reason, neither could James.

  She sat and the door shut. Bending forward, she covered her face in her hands. In the silence of the Faraday car, the ghost memories of the two men she loved most in the world hovered around her.

  I was a fool to think I could win Charles and defeat Gine.

  She had murdered her brother and caused her love to close with death. If only she had retired to that cottage in Wales, for then she would have hurt no one.

  The first time she had ridden in this car she had been in love with Charles. Only she had fought it, sacrificing everything to escape the Engine even to the point of sacrificing him. Now she was sacrificing everything for that love.

  Gine was dangerous. He had shown that time and time again. This time he had almost succeeded in getting her into the energy, and if it were not for James...