Clockwork Phantom

Chapter 2-3

Edward heard Iris’s voice below talking to Johann. He couldn’t make out the words, but she sounded upset. He put his head in his hands. She never showed that side of herself to him, not since returning from her father’s funeral in England. Now he only saw the false bright smile she put on every time she saw him.

As much as he tried not to be jealous of his friend and the ease with which she spoke to the musician, he was. But he didn’t want to frighten her with his dark thoughts, and they had become dark indeed since his first attempt at integrating the aether into a mock theatre lighting system a few days before. Patrick O’Connell, his partner in engineering, hadn’t said anything, but he’d been remarkably absent since.

Edward tried to do something himself earlier that day, injecting a little of the aether gas into the part of the system they had set up in the corner, but he could only get so far with just two hands and his improving but still basic understanding of engineering.

The footsteps that ascended the stairs was too heavy to be Iris but too light to be the Irishman. As Edward anticipated, Johann poked his head around the laboratory door, his lips drawn back in a grin too wide to be innocent, but not big enough to hint at diabolical scheming. Wary, Edward drew back.

“I thought you couldn’t do the experiments without sunlight,” Johann said and moved toward the window, which was covered by heavy curtains.

“Don’t touch that. The aether light is fine.” Edward gestured to the writhing opalescent mass of light and color in the center of the glass globe in front of him. “I’m seeing how long it takes for it to decay without light. I’m still unsure what its fuel is.”

Johann sat on the stool beside Edward’s. “That makes sense. Wouldn’t want it to disappear in the middle of a performance. How long has this one been going?”

“One week.” Yes, keep talking about the experiment. Don’t make me discuss other things.

Now Johann raised an eyebrow. “You must be anticipating some long plays.”

“I’m being thorough.” There, that would keep the questions coming. There were always questions. He used to like being the one to ask them, but now…

“Or you’re avoiding something.” Johann stood and walked to the window, where he yanked back the curtains. Watery late autumn sunlight poured through, and Edward squinted.

“Now you’ve ruined my experiment!”

“It’s been a week, Edward. We don’t have time to waste.”

Edward decided not to argue about how he spent his days because then he would have to talk about things he wanted to ponder further. Thus, a change of subject was in order. “Your hair and beard are getting longer,” he said. “You look like a wastrel.”

“You have no room to talk—you look like a vagabond. How long have you been up here without a break?”

Edward looked at the aether mass. “I don’t know. The servants bring me food and take the trays away. They also manage water for quick washes and the chamber pot at the appropriate times. O’Connell reminds me when I need to rest. What more do I need?” He stuck his shaking hands between his legs and squeezed so his friend wouldn’t notice his tremors.

“What more, indeed? You’ve reverted back to how you were before we left England last summer. Worse, actually. At least then you’d talk to people.” Johann resumed his seat and leaned in close to the aether chamber. “I could watch this stuff all day.”

“Don’t get so close!” Edward shoved him away.

“Fine, I’ll wear goggles.”

“You’ll need more than goggles if it destabilizes,” Edward gasped. His lungs felt too big for his chest, and he could barely expand them to breathe in the tight space they inhabited. His heart thumped in time to the aether’s undulations, and he again squeezed his hands between his legs to stop their shaking and tingling.

“Edward, what…?” Johann stood and searched for something. The room spun, and Edward barely stayed on his stool. Something covered his nose and mouth, and he breathed into the paper bag his friend held to his face until his lungs shrank back to a reasonable size and he could take more than mere sips of air.

“Do I need to call Radcliffe?” Johann asked.

“No,” Edward said. “I’m all right now. Just don’t get close to it. How many times do I have to remind you it’s dangerous?”

“And how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not going to act like it did in Rome?”

“How do you know? You’re not an aetherist. A stray frequency, a rumbling outside… It’s not safe to move forward with it.”

Instead of arguing as he usually did, Johann paused and gave Edward a measuring look. “Is that why you’re stuck? You’re afraid it’s going to do something unpredictable?”

“Everything is predictable.” Like my inevitable descent into madness and Iris’s disappointment in me.

“So what is it, then? Madame is getting impatient.”

“Science takes time.” Edward couldn’t help a little grin, remembering an argument from another lifetime.

“And money doesn’t grow on trees,” Johann replied with an answering smile. “But it has to come from somewhere. We’re reaching the ends of our expedition fees from Cobb. I have to join the orchestra for the upcoming performance so Madame doesn’t kick us out.”

“Don’t worry, no one will recognize you. We haven’t seen any clockworks since returning to Paris. The Prussians have scared them away.”

“They’re more persistent than you give them credit for.” Now Johann’s expression mirrored Edward’s doubt.

A flapping noise outside startled them both. A raven sat on the roof between the townhouse attic and theatre and gazed at them with glowing red eyes.