Clockwork and Chastity

 

     The forest was thick with pines. In the clearing sat a young man intently examining a book. Copper magnifying goggles sat firmly on his eyes. His equally copper hair shot out in every direction and his mouth twisted as he re-read the chapter. It didn't make sense. He couldn't picture how dismantling the lever would loosen the gears. They didn't even seem connected.

     He heard a shuffling and quickly glanced around, making sure that nobody saw him with the book. They may have frowned upon his well-worn edition of Dismantling Mechanical Chastity. It was just the wind, so he returned to his scholarly pursuit. 

     He looked at the diagrams in the book. They certainly were....educational. He hadn't quite worked out what he would do if he was successful in removing the chastity belt from Chastity. He had seen animals in the forest mating, but his instinct told him that it might be different with people. He couldn't wait to find out.

     He met Chastity at the holiday party last year. He had glanced up at the balcony and caught her riding the automated staircase down. She was a vision with her dark hair cascading across the shoulders of her shimmery burgundy dress.

     He had asked her to dance. She smiled and offered him her delicate, metallic hand. He had held her like a precious treasure as they danced through the evening.

     Over the weeks following the party, he had crept into her room every night, climbing up the vines of gears that twisted and turned to try to make him fall. He was too fast for them. A few cut into his boots, but that only made the boots look more rugged.

     One evening, as he kissed Chastity passionately, his hands crept up to her thigh and instead of her sweet, soft flesh, he felt....the chastity device. He cut his finger on it and the romantic portion of the evening had come to an abrupt end. She tended to his wound and he only cared for her more because she did. 

    "Does it hurt you?" he asked her.

     "Yes, it cuts my skin" she looked at him with her dark luminous eyes and his heart grew weak. 

     He knew at that point that he had to help her. He would find a way to dismantle the device and free her. He was committed to the cause. He had spent many nights thinking about what was under that belt. 

     He had devised a plan after studying the book over the last several months. He had been able to get a practice belt and dismantle it. He knew it would be more difficult with her in it, but he was ready to try.    

     He arrived at Chastity's and climbed the now familiar vine of gears. He smiled as he imagined how much joy he could bring her by releasing her from her mechanical prison. He thought of all the joy that he could bring her after that as well.

     She seemed a bit off. She distractedly played with her steam powered puppy while he lifted her skirts and began dismantling the chastity device. Beads of sweat dotted his brow, but he kept working on it. At last, he heard a click and the gears loosened. He tugged at the belt and as it fell away, her soft skin was revealed. She was magnificent.

     He eagerly began kissing her thighs but her metallic hand reached down to push him away with surprising force. He thought that might bruise by morning. 

     "Congratulations, most of the gentlemen take much longer." 

     She grabbed her belt and carefully put it back on. He watched her expertly adjust every lock and gear. She didn't even look at him. 

     "Most of the gentlemen?"

     "Oh yes, this happens all the time, but I would never entertain someone like you. I am engaged to a wealthy merchant."

     "Engaged? Merchant? What kind of merchant?"

     "Well, he makes mechanical chastity devices, actually." Her eyes turned down.

     "I loved you. I did all of this for you." He tried to hold back the unmanly tears that raced down his face.

     "I know, that's how I knew you would provide the best data for Robert's designs. I really appreciate it, no hard feelings?"

     He stomped out of her room and climbed back down the vine. Mechanical devices, weaponry, and dirigibles he could manage. There was no volume on Dismantling the Female Mind, for no authors held that knowledge. He headed towards the pub.     

Brass Goggles

 

 He raced through the street, the tools on his belt smacking against his body. The ax was particularly painful. He winced. The Coppers were gaining on him. His chest felt stabs of pain every time he took a breath.

     His large boot tripped on the uneven cobblestones and he tried to catch himself, but his face planted firmly against the stone. His brass goggles were smashed up and his face fared a little worse than that. Blood trickled from his mouth. The good news was that his teeth seemed to be in tact. He saw the coppers in the distance, but the paperboy was much closer.

     "Hey kid!"

     The scrawny kid looked up, his ocular clicking as it adjusted to stare at him with interest. "Whatcha want mister?"

     "Can you get me out of here, hide me?"

     "For a price mister."

     "I can pay, just hurry up kid."

     The kid disappeared behind the nearby wall. He reappeared with a large mechanical cart that looked like a swift kick would reduce it to spare parts. He hollered, "hop in mister!" 

     Riley jumped into the cart. It strained under his rather light weight and rolled away. It was bumpy and the ax continued to chew away at his leg. He didn't care about his leg as long as IT was protected. The object that got him into this mess in the first place.    

     "What's in the bag mister?"

     Riley moved the bag closer to his chest. "Not your business kid, just keep the cart rolling away from the Coppers."

     The kid made sure to hit every bump. Riley's swollen mouth really hurt. This was not how he had planned to spend the day. "Hey kid, can you take it easy."

     The bumping improved. A good sign. "Kid?"

     "Yeah?"

     "Can you take me to the North side?"

     The kid stopped the cart abruptly and grinned at him. "Mister, you just raised your price."

     He laughed,  "Yeah yeah, I told you I can pay." 

     They took off again and went past the softly burning arc lights of the city. They passed the outskirts of town with steam powered motor bikes parked in the drives. When they reached the countryside, there were few houses scattered across the rolling hills.

     "Which place mister?"

     "The one just over the next hill on the left." They pulled up to a white house with a gray roof. There were flowers planted in front and overall the house appeared to be very welcoming. 

     Riley looked at the skinny kid and he saw a bit of himself. He knew he could have used a friend like him when he was the boy's age. "Do you want to come in?"

     The kid's eyes lit up and he nodded. Riley lifted the doormat to reveal a copper key. He opened the front door and they stepped into the house.

     The house was clean, but every wall was covered in aging books. They wound their way through the hallways until they arrived in the kitchen. A mechanical cat sauntered over to the boy and rubbed his leg.

     Riley took the bag he had been clutching and placed it on the table. A soft slow emitted from the bag. He pulled the bag away and revealed a luminous orb that contained a miniature view of the entire city. The boy's mouth opened in shock. Riley smiled conspiratorially, "we are going to have a lot of fun with this, kid." 

Little Bird

The light from the gas lamp glowed dimly in the office. A large stocky man sat at his desk, his gray hair falling in many directions. He had elegant hands and beautiful handwriting. The letter he had written that night sat on the desk in front of him. He dipped his quill in the ink and signed the letter. The world would burn or survive upon his signature. He coughed and applied powder to the paper to dry the ink. He pulled the sheet off his desk and rolled it into a tiny scroll. It could have been a digital message, but those were always traceable. He could not take any chances. 

     He rose from his chair with effort and walked into the adjacent room. A brass cage stood in the middle of the room. Within the cage was a brass bird. The bird sang a sweet melody when the bird saw him walk in. A smile touched his stern face. "Pretty bird," he said. The bird hopped to the perch closest to him and cocked its head. He opened the cage door and the bird took flight, rapidly darting around the room. He did not seem concerned about the escapee. The bird flew to his hand, looked and him, and chirped. "That's better," he said as he chuckled to himself. 

     He pressed a button on the bird's belly. The bird stopped moving. A small door opened and revealed a compartment. The man took the tiny scroll from his pocket and placed it in the belly of the bird. He shut the door and pressed the button one more time. Again the bird came to life and sang a sweet melody. The song transported him to another time when he was small and had no worries. It was the lullaby that his mother used to sing to him. He glanced out the window, seeing the nightly bombs glowing in red and orange being dropped from the airships. 

     He took the bird in his hands and went to the window. "Ok little bird, the world awaits your task" he whispered. He opened the window and felt the cool evening air blow into the room. It smelled of the rose gardens that surrounded the city juxtaposed with the scent of fires burning. He lifted his arms out the window and released the bird.

     The bird soared over the city. The city was dark except for the fires that burned from all of the places where the bombs had landed. The bird clicked and whirred as it flew through the air. The bird had to fly without digital navigation. There could be no risk of the bird being traced. The bird darted in between buildings and bobbed up and down in the evening breezes.

     The bird's destination was approaching. From the left, an airship quickly flew next to it and clipped one of its wings. The bird clicked once, twice, and started to fall from the sky. It landed in a pile of dirt on the ground. The bird was well built. It did not fall into pieces when it hit the ground. It also could not move. The little bird wanted the man to say "pretty bird", but the man was not there.

     Kendrick had been out stealing scrap metal from the fallen bombs. He had to do it at night because if he waited until daylight, most of the metal would have been gone by then. His tall, thin frame limped along the street with one flesh leg and one mechanical leg. He had to stop for a minute. The mechanical leg needed to be adjusted again. He was thankful to have it, but it came with its inconveniences. The only place out of the way was a pile of dirt in the corner of the street. He sat down and looked up at the sky. He wondered if life would ever become more than waiting for the bombs to drop and a nightly hunt for metal. He recalled a time when he would laugh with his sisters and brothers. They were all gone. It was difficult to beat the odds when bombs fell nightly. He was amazed that he had survived twenty-seven years.

     He heard a small click. He looked around and saw something metal in the dirt. He reached over and saw a small mechanical bird. It was definitely broken. He decided to bring it home with him. He might be able to add it to his metal scrap for sale. When he got back to his workshop, he started preparing the metal that he had gathered that night. He looked at the bird and saw a button on the bird's belly. He pressed the button and a compartment opened. Contained in the bird's belly was a tiny scroll.

     He unfurled the scroll and he paled. He didn't understand how he was the one to receive this message. He was not the most intelligent person in this city, although he was quite clever. He was not wealthy. He was not physically perfect. Yet, the message had come to him. The revolution had come to him, and he would embrace his fate.       

The Timekeeper

 

     She flew around the clocks that surrounded her. As her wings fluttered, she listened as they ticked. She smiled as her heart clicked in time with the clocks. They were large and small, fancy and plain, old and young. There were so many that she could never know how many there were. It didn’t matter, all clocks had to be wound. Everyone was cherished.

     She frowned as she heard a slow tick out of sequence with the rest. The sound of her flapping wings echoed as she urgently flew through the valley trying to find the offender. She found the large oak clock, barely ticking. She reached out to wind it, but the arm was stuck. She pulled on the arm bracing her legs against the clock face, but nothing happened. Finally, the clock stopped.

     All of the clocks stopped ticking as he rode in on a pale horse. His spindly hands reached out and grabbed the frozen clock. His fleshless

face grinned silently as he slipped it into his black bag. She had wanted to save it, but she had been too late. He rode away leaving a cloud of black dust in his wake.

     The clocks started to tick again, but her heart felt only pain. A piece of her was lost. Soon, other clocks began to slow, but she could only think of the face she could not save. Her ticking heart stopped and the valley filled with silence. 

The Dirigible Den

     

     

     Her blue petticoat rustled and her boots clicked as she walked the cobblestone street. The sky was turning to dusk and she knew that she needed to find a place to find shelter for the evening. Her pace quickened, it wasn't safe to be out at night. The street had a few shops that had already closed for the evening. There were many pubs with lodging available The challenge was deciding which one would be the right one to stay in for the night. The wrong pub could mean bad food, lice, an amorous gentleman, or all three.

     She looked at the pub signs hanging. Pub Number 15, no, that one most definitely has lice in all of the bedding. The Magnificent Mug and Mutton, bad food. The Gentleman's Pleasure Pub, um no. The Dirigible Den. Hmm, now that sounded intriguing. The door to the pub creaked open to reveal a dark place. It smelled of dust, metal, and beer. There was a musician in the corner playing a sweet, sad song on his violin. A few patrons glanced her way, but nobody seemed overly interested, which was a good sign.

     There was an older gentleman in the corner polishing glasses. He was a large man with an equally large white beard. Gold goggles were hanging from his neck. His skin was tanned. He obviously had spent some time on airships. Perhaps a retired captain? She spoke up, "Um hello, may I take a room for the night?" He cleared his throat and looked at her with lively eyes the color of the sea. "Oh, I have been waiting for you to arrive. I have just the room for you. Top left." She looked at him quizzically, but he just smiled and handed her the key.

     She went up to the creaking staircase and found the room. It was clean, or at least appeared so by the low flickering light. She changed for bed and examined the bed for vermin. She remembered her father's advice saying "No lice, no mice, the bed was nice." She snuggled in for the night. She heard a little sneeze. It must be the thin walls. There it was again, a distinct sneeze definitely coming from her room. She got up from the bed, opened her satchel and pulled out her steam light. She waited for the liquid in the wand to boil producing steam and making the light glow a bright amber color that washed through the room.   

     She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then she heard another sneeze. She aimed the light under the bed. Two eyes the color of the sea were looking back at her. She let out a yelp and the creature under the bed also let out a yelp. "What are you?" she asked as she tried to get a better look. The creature backed further under the bed. Well whatever it was, it had to be hungry. She had made many friends with animals over the years by offering a little snack. She had quite a menagerie of strays at home. She rifled through her bag again this time producing some cookies.

     She waved a cookie under the bed "Come on little guy, come out and let me have a look at you." The creature just sat still. "Come on baby, I won't hurt you" she cooed. The little creature sniffed and sneezed again. This time she noticed steam wafting from under the bed after the sneeze. Finally, she heard a shuffle and saw the creature get a little closer. A cat? A pup? Oh no, a dragon! The dragon moved closer to the cookie and grabbed it from her hand, munching enthusiastically. She really ought to complain, after all, dragons do bite.

     She was so tired that she decided to ignore the dragon and try to get some sleep for her long journey the next day. She would be piloting her very own ship and she needed to be well rested for that. She drifted off hearing the occasional sneezes that eventually were incorporated into her dreams. In addition to vermin, she would remember to check for dragons next time she stayed at an inn.

     As the light of day crept into the room she awoke. Curled up next to her was the little black dragon. As he snored bits of steam escaped his nostrils. He felt warm next to her and she had the urge to pet him. How ridiculous. Nobody pets dragons. She could not resist. She reached out and felt his smooth scales. He snuggled closer to her as she ran her hands along his chin. He woke up, yawned, and gazed at her lovingly with those sweet bluish green eyes. She scooted away from him. "Ok little guy, it's time for me to go. I have a ship to run."

     She dressed, gathered her bag and went downstairs to settle her bill. "On the house," the old guy said with a grin. She opened the door to the street. She saw Ensign Garrett. "Garrett!" she yelled. The ensign jumped at looked at her "Yes Captain" he said standing at attention. "Take me to the ship" she commanded. "Yes, Captain" he replied. They made their way through the crowd to the docks. The airship was so tall that she could not see the top from the dock. She got on the lift and rode to the bridge. She stepped on the bridge and saw her crew all awaiting her command. "Half speed out from the harbor" she commanded and heard a chorus of ayes. It was good to be Captain.

     She went to gather her spyglass from her bag. The bag was moving. When she opened the bag the steam dragon sneezed and scooted out of the bag. The little dragon jumped on her shoulder as she bent down looking for the spyglass. She thought that the traditional Captain's pet was the parrot. She looked at the dragon on her shoulder. "It looks like we will need to get you some tea for that sneeze so you will be well for our journey ahead." 

Automation

 

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash

The shop had gotten busy. Randall’s eyesight wasn’t like it used to be and the long hours were making him weary. The demand for light fixtures had grown as more people had adopted modern lighting. The thought of closing the shop made his heart sink. He and Laina started it so many years ago. He didn’t miss her as much when he was in the shop because her essence remained in every corner of the place. He thought about getting more help, but good help was expensive and the kids in the street couldn’t be trusted.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when the bell above the door clattered. His nephew walked in with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey Uncle, I have some fantastic news for you!”

Randall concentrated on not rolling his eyes. Bishop’s ideas were creative, but often impractical. He didn’t want to discourage the boy.

“Well Bishop, let’s have this fantastic news,” he winked.

Bishop’s eyes were nearly as wild as his dark hair as he reached in his worn, canvas bag. He pulled out what looked like a pile of brass rods. He unfolded the rods to reveal a shiny automaton around three feet tall.

Randall was impressed that it had fit in Bishop’s bag. Bishop could always find a way to do things that seemed impossible to most people.

“I made it myself,” Bishop grinned with pride.

“That’s a fine creation, my boy. What can it do?”

“That’s the best part!”

Bishop placed the automaton in front of the stack of metal plates. He wound the enormous key on the automaton’s back. As the key slowly began to unwind, the automaton rapidly began sorting and assembling the plates. The entire stack was completed in less than half the time it would have taken Randall before the automaton came to a halt as the key wound down.

“It’s all about automation Uncle. All you have to do is wind them up!”

This was a blessing. Bishop brought over seven of them to help in the shop. Randall would no longer need to worry about closing the business. Randall would no longer need to work himself to an early grave. Bishop had saved the day.

The first day the automatons went to work, Randall wound them up and went to the back office to enjoy an extra cup of coffee and read the daily news.

“Uncle come quick!”

Randall rushed into the shop and the plates were all over the floor.

“What the Hell happened?”

“Um, we forgot to give the proper instructions.”

“What about the one you showed me last night?”

“Oh, I had already programmed that one Uncle.”

The next day the automatons were given explicit instructions. Things were going far better than the day before.

The only problem was, Bishop and Randall had to run around the shop re-winding the keys. By the end of the day, the work was completed, but Randall was exhausted.

“Boy, can we get these guys to last a wee bit longer?”

“I will get right on that.”

Bishop held to his word and the automatons required far less winding. Towards the end of the day, they all came to a halt. Randall tried to wind them, but it didn’t work.

“What’s the matter this time Bishop?”

“Um, well, the enhancements I made to get them to last longer seems to have created a problem in their systems.”

Randall gave Bishop a warm hug and tousled his hair.

The next morning, Randall hung a sign on the door of his shop “help wanted”.