Steampunk!: An Anthology of Fantastically Rich and Strange Stories (6 page)

BOOK: Steampunk!: An Anthology of Fantastically Rich and Strange Stories
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"What did the One God reveal to you down under the river, Adelaide Jones?" His hand had moved to my cheek. "Did you see us here by the tree?"

We weren't s'posed to tell our visions. They were for us alone. But I wanted to tell John Barks what I'd witnessed, see what he'd make of it, see if he could ease my mind some. So right there with the new light buzzing all around us, I told him what I seen under the river. When I were done, John Barks kissed me soft and sweet on the forehead.

"I don't believe that," he said. "Not for one second."

"But I seen it!"

"I think the One God leaves some things up to us to decide. He shows us a vision, and it's your choice what to do with it." He smiled. "I can tell you what I hope to see next week."

"What?" I said, trying hard not to cry.

"This," he whispered.

It started to rain. John Barks put his coat over us and kissed me on the mouth this time, and oh, not even clockworks could match up to the feeling of that kiss. It made me believe what John Barks said, that we might could change our fates, and I forgot to be afraid.

"Yes," I said, and I kissed him back.

I thought about that day while me and the Glory Girls collected the blue nettle, and I thought about it, too, while I extracted them tiny beats of lightning and placed 'em inside the Enigma Apparatus. While I watched them light strands prickle and inch toward the serum inside the glass vial, some new hope stirred in me, too, putting me in mind of Master Crawford's vision, the messenger who would come and liberate us from our time-bounded minds. Maybe the Glory Girls were the ones to set us free. And the Enigma Apparatus were the key. Them thoughts about sliding through past and future come prickling up again, only I didn't push 'em away so fast this time, and the only prayer that left my lips was the word "Please . . ." while I waited for the spark to set things in motion.

The blue nettle connected with the vial. The serum pulsed inside its cage. The second hand on the clock face ticked. I shouted for the girls to come out quick. Soon, they was crowded 'round me in that workshop while we watched the Enigma Apparatus hum with new life.

"Girls, I think we've got ourselves a timepiece again," Colleen said.

I were supposed to have a rendezvous with the chief.

I missed it.

 

We tested it on a mail train the next day. It were just a local, steaming across a patch of plains, but it would do for practice.

"Here goes," Colleen said, and my nerves went to rattling. She bent her arm and aimed the clock face at the train.

I've had me a few thrills in my sixteen yearn, but seeing the Enigma Apparatus do its work had to be one of the biggest. Great whips of light jump out and held that train sure as the One God's hand might. Inside, the engineer seemed like he were made of wax—he weren't moving that I could see. The Glory Girls boarded the train. There weren't but bags of letters on it, so they didn't take nothing, only changed 'round the engineer's clothes till he wore his long johns on the outside and his hat 'round backward. When the light charge stopped holding and the train lurched forward again, he looked a might confused at his state. We laughed so hard, I thought the miners would hear us down below. But the drills kept up their steady whine, oblivious. And the best part yet? Somehow in my tinkering, I'd drawn out the length to a full eight minutes. I'd made her better. I'd bested time.

The pigeon were on the windowsill of my workhouse when I get back. I unrolled the note tucked into her mouth. It were from the chief, telling me when and where to make our rendezvous, saying I'd best not miss it. I tossed the note in the stove and got to work.

By the time we hit the 6:40 the next Friday, I'd taken her to a full ten minutes.

 

The Right Reverend Jackson - to say there were a fine line between saint and sinner, and in the long days I spent with the Glory Girls robbing trains and falling under the spell of the Enigma Apparatus, I guess I crossed well over it. Before long, I'd almost forgot I'd had one life as a Believer and another as a Pinkerton. I were a Glory Girl as much as any of 'em, and it felt like I'd always been one. Truth be told, them were some of the happiest times I'd had since I'd walked with John Barks. Like being part of a family it were, but with no Mam to sigh when you forgot to burp the baby and no Pap to slap you when your words was too sharp for his liking. Mornings we rode the horses fast and free over the dusty plains, letting the wind whip our hair till it rose like crimson floss. We'd try to best each other, though we all knew Josephine were the fastest rider. Still, it were fun to try, and nobody could tut-tut that we was unladylike. Fadwa worked on my marksmanship by teaching me to shoot at empty tins, and while I weren't no sharpshooter, I done all right, and by all right, I mean I managed to knock off a can without shooting the horses. Josephine taught me to dress a wound with camphor to draw out the poisons. Amanda liked to sneak up on each a-one and scare the dickens out of us. Then she'd fall on the ground, laughing and pointing. "You shoulda seen your face!" and hold her sides till we couldn't do nothing but laugh, too. At night, we played poker, betting stolen brooches against a stranger's looted gold. It didn't matter nothing—if you lost a bundle, there were always another airship or train a-comin'. The poker games went fine till Amanda lost, which she usually did, bein' a terrible card player. Then she'd throw down her cards and point a finger at whoever cleaned up.

"You're cheating, Colleen Feeney!"

Colleen didn't even look up while she scooped the chips toward her lap. "That's the only way to win in this world, Mandy."

One night, Colleen and me walked to the hills overlooking the mines and sat on the cold ground, feeling the vibrations of them great drills looking for gold and finding nothing. Stars paled behind dust clouds. We watched a seeding ship float in the sky, its sharp brass nose glinting in the gloom. "Seems like there ought to be more than this," Colleen said after a spell.

If John Barks were there, he'd say something about how beautiful it was, how special. "It ain't much of a planet," I said.

"That's not what I meant." She rolled a dirt clod down the hillside. It broke apart on the way down.

 

It come about by accident that first time. I'd been experimenting with the Engima all along, stretching out the time by seconds, but I couldn't break past ten minutes. It were all well and good to lock the Engima on a train and stretch the Glory Girls' time on it; what I wondered were if we, ourselves, might could move around in time like prayer beads on a string. Inside the Enigma were the Temporal Displacement Dial. I'd scooted its splintery hands 'round and 'round, taken it apart, put it back together twelve ways from Sunday. Didn't come to much. This time, I got to looking at the tiny whirling eye that joined them hands at the center. I cain't rightly say what gear it were that clicked in my head and told me I should take a thin, pulsing strand of blue nettle and settle it into that center, but that's what I done. Then I pushed that second hand faster and faster 'round that dial. With my hand tingling like a siddle-bug bite, I aimed the Enigma at myself. I felt a jolt, and then I were standing still in the shop listening to Josephine ringing the dinner bell. I knowed that couldn't be right—it were only two o'clock in the afternoon, and dinner weren't till six most days. Long shadows crept over the shop floor. Six-o'clock shadows. I'd lost four whole hours. Had I slept? I knowed I hadn't—not standing up with my boots on, anyways. A tingle twisted through my insides till I felt as alive as a blue nettle. I'd done it.

I'd unlocked time.

 

That night, Colleen brought out a bottle of whiskey and poured us each a tall glass. "There's a train coming soon. The four-ten through the Kelly Pass. It's the best one yet. I've seen the passenger list. It is impressive. You can be sure there'll be pearls big as fists. And rubies and diamonds, too."

Josephine let out a holler, but Amanda scowled.

"Gettin' tired of gems," she said, reaching for the bottle. "Nowhere to wear 'em. No where to trade 'em in much anymore."

Colleen shrugged. "There'll be gold dust on this one."

I couldn't hold it back no more. "Maybe we're goin' about this the wrong way. Maybe we should be looking at the Enigma App . . . Appar . . . the watch as our best haul," I said. I weren't used to whiskey. It made my thoughts spin. "You ever think of using it on something other than a train?"

Amanda spat out a stream of tobacco. It stained the hay the color of a fevered man on his deathbed. "Like what?"

"Say, for going forward in time to see what you'll be eatin' next week. Or maybe for going back. Maybe to a day you'd want to do over."

"Ain't nothing I'd want to go back to," Josephine said.

"What about all them tomorrows?"

"I'll likely be dead. Or fat," Amanda said, and laughed. "Either way, I don't want to know."

The girls commenced to teasing Amanda 'bout her future as a fat farmer's wife. Maybe it were the whiskey, but I couldn't let it alone. "What I'm sayin' is that we might could use the Enigma to travel through time and see if there's anything out there besides this miserable rock—maybe even to unlock bigger secrets. Ain't that a durn sight better than a pearl?" I slammed my tankard down on the table, and the girls got right quiet then. I hadn't never been much of a talker, much less a yeller.

Colleen played with the poker chips. They made a
plinkety-plink
sound. In the dim light, she looked less like an outlaw, more like a schoolgirl. Sometimes I forgot she weren't but seventeen. "Go on, Addie."

"I done it," I said, breathing heavy. "Time travel. With the Engima. I figured it."

I had their attention then. I told 'em about my experiments, how I'd jumped ahead hours just that afternoon. "It's just a start," I cautioned. "I ain't perfected nothing yet."

Fadwa licked her fingers. "I don't understand. Why do we want this?"

"Don't you see? We wouldn't need to rob trains then. We could go anywhere we wanted," Colleen said. "Perhaps there's something better ahead, something we can have without cheating."

Colleen and me locked eyes, and I saw something in her face that put me in mind ofJohn Barks. Hope. She put the chips back on the table. "I'm in for the ride, Watchmaker. Do the Glory Girls proud."

"Yes'm," I said, swallowing hard.

"In the meantime, we'd better get ready for the four-ten."

 

The next morning, Fadwa and me saddled up the horses and headed into town for supplies. It'd been a year since I'd gone off with the Glory Girls. The Believers were setting up their tents along the Pitch again. I were waiting by the horses when somebody clapped a strong hand over my mouth and jerked me around the back of the Red Cat brothel, upstairs, and into a bedroom, where I were forced into a chair. Two big goons stood by, their arms folded but ready to grab me if I so much as looked at the door. In a moment, the same door opened and the chief walked in and took a seat across from me. He'd put on weight since I'd seen him last and was sporting some right furry muttonchops. He wiped his spectacles with a handkerchief and put them back on his face. "Miss Adelaide Jones, I presume. You've been gone a very long time, Miss Jones."

"Lost track of time, sir," I said, and he didn't laugh none at my joke.

"Allow me to inform you: a year. An entire year with no contact."

My stomach churned. I wanted to yell out to Fadwa, warn her. I wanted to jump out the window onto my horse and ride like I was racing Josephine all the way back to the camp and to the Enigma Apparatus.

"Do you care to tell me how the six-forty out of Serendipity came to be robbed by the Glory Girls? Or the eleven-eleven airship from St. Igatius?" He slammed a fist down on the table, and it rattled the floorboards. "Do you care to tell me anything at all, Miss Jones, that would keep me from clapping you in irons for the rest of your natural life?"

I picked a burr out of my pants. "You're looking well, sir. I'm right fond of the muttonchops."

The chief's face reddened. "Miss Jones, may I remind you that you are a Pinkerton agent?"

"No, sir, I ain't," I said, my dander up. "You 'n' I both know ladies don't get to be agents. We end up like Mrs. Beasley, bringing tea and asking if there'll be anything else."

The chief went to open his mouth, then he closed it again. Finally he said, "Well, then, there is this to consider, Miss Jones: there is the law. Without it, we slip into the void. You are sworn to uphold it. If you do not, I'll see you prosecuted with the others. Do you take the full import of my meaning, Miss Jones?"

I didn't answer.

"Do you?"

"Yessir. Am I free to go?"

He waved me off. But when I got up, the chief grabbed hold of my arm. "Addie, which train are they aiming for next? Please tell me."

It were the
please
almost got me.

"Fadwa's just coming out. She'll be missing me. Sir."

The chief looked a might sad then. "Tag her," he said.

The goons held me down tight, and one of 'em brought out an odd rounded gun with a needle on the tip. I struggled but it didn't make no difference. They brung that gun up against the back of my neck, and it felt like a punch going in.

"What—what'd you do to me?" I gasped, and put a hand to my neck. There weren't no blood.

"It's a sound transmission device," Chief Coolidge said. "Agent Meeks is responsible for that invention. It transmits sound to us here. We can hear everything that is said. There should be enough to hang the Glory Girls, I should think."

"That ain't fair," I said.

"Life's not fair." The chief glared. "Tell us about the train — everything we need to catch them—and you'll go free, Addie."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll take you in now and throw away the key."

It weren't a choice.

 

BOOK: Steampunk!: An Anthology of Fantastically Rich and Strange Stories
8.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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