Godspeed (12 page)

He lowered the chain around my neck, and as he did so, tears I could not deny wound their way down my cheeks and onto his gifted, powerful hands.

C
HAPTER
15

HOURS LATER I SAT
at my dressing table, marveling at how seamlessly the wires from my chest joined to the new charm suspended from the fine chain around my neck.

“Admire it, do you?”

I had left the door cracked open behind me, expecting Schuyler would be along soon to fetch me for dinner. I had not expected a visit from this man, who had somehow made all the way into the room and right up over my shoulder without my hearing or seeing him reflected in the glass.

He stood there, listening scope slung around his neck, one foot crossed over the other, and at the sight my stomach turned and tumbled. Just looking at him was enough to banish every other thought I could possibly have. Looking at him was how I wished I could spend all my time for the rest of my days.

“I do. It is a very pretty thing, Doctor Godspeed.”

He muttered something under his breath that I did not quite hear, but could have sworn he made reference to the necklace not being the only pretty thing in the room.

Whatever he said, the tone was enough to turn my usually chalky cheeks the color of the flowers on the curtains, and I looked down and straightened the skirt of the brand new white dress Schuyler had sewn for me.

“You… look different,” he observed.

“The dress, sir,” I offered, speaking softly as if it were a great secret. “Schuyler is a genius with fabric.”

He leaned down and whispered into my ear, “Don't let him hear you say that, or we will never hear the end of it, the lot of us.” He remained where he was, just behind me, and I could feel his breath falling softly against the back of my neck. The sensation caused a shiver to travel through the whole of my body, and I wished nothing more in this moment than that I could turn around, look up at him, and tilt my face toward his…

“It must feel a great burden has been lifted, now that you are no longer chained to the box.”

“Oh, sir, I cannot begin to explain.” I did whirl around now, so quickly that he took a noticeable step back. I tried not to let my disappointment show. “The gift you have given me, not only life itself but the ability to truly live it for the first time, is something I could never thank you enough for.” I blinked away tears. “You've healed me, Doctor Godspeed. I am well.”

“You are alive,” he replied cautiously.

I worried at his tone. The truth of its meaning was discovered in the next instant when I asked a seemingly innocent question.

“Now that I am free of the box I appear almost normal, or I could with a cloak. When may I go outside?”

Quinn looked at me with a mixture of worry and annoyance. “Your accommodations no longer suit you, Miss?”

“No, it's not that.” I didn't mean to seem ungrateful, though I doubted any animal would allow this — to be captive indoors so long without at least one attempt being made at escape. “I only wish to walk with the grass beneath my feet again. To take in the blossoms on the trees, and feel the wind upon my face.”

He looked at me with a new expression, one I had not seen before. I didn't have long to marvel at it though, because his blunt response was not at all what I was expecting.

“You can't go out during the day. Not anymore.”

I was so shocked, indeed horrified by the declaration, that I could scarcely breathe, let alone speak.

“You will remember that I told you sacrifices would have to be made for your life to continue. That a great price would have to be paid.”

I nodded, already dreading words he had yet to say.

His brow furrowed as he momentarily turned to another thought. “Do you know how it confounds me, your stubborn insistence upon keeping your name a secret? It makes me wonder, sometimes, if you are not hiding more from me than you first intimated. What darkness you may be capable of.” He seemed to say the words only to goad me, as if clearly certain all the same that I was a being incapable of intentionally hurting another.

“No,” I objected. “I've done nothing wrong, sir, I promise you.”

“Then why the continued evasion?”

I was feeling particularly bold in this moment, though I couldn't have said why — perhaps the prospect of spending the rest of my days, however long or short a time they may add up to, within the confines of these walls pushed me beyond the limits of acceptable politeness.

“You are not the only one with questions, Doctor Godspeed. Perhaps it is time we both spoke from the heart?”

His expression turned sour; still it did not detract one bit from the elegant lines of his jaw or the fire in his eyes. On the contrary, the frown only seemed to enhance the intensity in him that I found so entrancing.

“To speak from the heart you must have one.”

His words hung heavy in the air between us, and I could feel his pain like a physical blow. It didn't just bleed from him slowly, in that moment it rushed from him like a tidal wave and it swept me under, drowning me in the darker contents of his soul.

“No man without a heart could ever possess the genius it takes to resurrect another's,” I whispered. He turned to me with a look of incredulousness upon his face, as if he was uncertain he'd really heard the words I said.

“You are a curious thing. You're much too young to be making such observations about what a man might be capable of.” He shook his head. “Men are capable of acts of both great heroism and utter stupidity. The challenge is determining the difference in advance, when sadly it is often only hindsight which offers the proper perspective.”

“I thought you were going to say acts of great good and ultimate evil.”

He slowly raised his intense eyes to mine. “That, too.”

“That is an ugly truth, sir.”

“It is an ugly world.”

We remained silent for a while, both lost to our own memories of the ugliness we'd known.

“Why?” I asked suddenly, hoping he would continue to give me enough credit for the brain that I had and not to patronize me by watering down the truth.

He made no attempt to evade the question by feigning ignorance of my meaning. “Why can you no longer go out in the sunlight?”

“Yes.”

“It's not that it would harm you, not outright. In fact, it is days with storming rains we need fear more.” It was the first time I'd heard him admit any sort of fear where I was concerned, and it was a revelation that made my heart speed up all on its own.

A small noise, something I could only explain as a cross between a ping and a click, sounded from the ornament wired to my chest.

“What's this? Let's have a listen.”

The closer he got to me the faster my heart proceeded to pound, and for several moments it fought the cadence of the mechanism meant to regulate it.

“Something is upsetting you,” he said, withdrawing the listening scope from his ears. “You must avoid all undue stress, and not battle against the workings of the machine. Is there something in particular that is troubling you?”

How could I tell him that it was merely his nearness that was creating such a reaction within me?

I could not, so I lied to him. For the first time, I looked him directly in the eyes and I lied.

“It may be of no consequence to a creature as nocturnal as you are, sir, but I am accustomed to living during daylight hours. At least I was, when I was still alive.”

“As I told you before, you are alive now. Many are confined by the limits of an existence they did not choose and cannot change, young woman. Perhaps it would do you well to have a lesson in gratitude.”

“I didn't mean to seem—” I stammered. “Doctor, please.”

“I believe you are well enough to come downstairs for dinner tonight,” he announced. “A few of my other patients will be coming by, and it is their custom to have dinner together on such occasions.
Schuyler will spend most of the day in the kitchen and the result will be a meal unlike anything you've probably ever seen in your life. Yes…” He nodded to himself. “It is time you met the Freaks.”

I recoiled, hearing him use such an unkind word to describe another living being. “Is that the word you would use to describe me, doctor, when I am not within distance to hear?”

“It is not my word,” he corrected quickly. “It is theirs. It is the word by which they choose to identify themselves.” He moved toward the door, and though I always hated to see him leave my presence, today there was even greater motivation to keep him here a little longer: he had never fully answered my question.

“Why can I no longer go out during the day?”

“Because.” He moved back toward me, the tip of his index finger just brushing over the metal casing of the charm. “In the end there was only one power source that I could truly depend upon to work in unison with the artificial, and that was the ultimate, most basic source of all energy on Earth.”

Instantly I understood. “The sun?”

“Very good.” He almost, but not quite, gazed upon me approvingly. “It must build a charge during daylight hours, and then when I bring it to you it will hold enough power to carry you through most of the night. The sleeping world will be yours. When day comes, you must rest.”

I sighed. I wished in this moment I could truly understand every intricate internal component of the device that prolonged my life, even if it limited it at the same time. More than that, though, I wished to understand the deepest hidden recesses of the mind that contained the genius necessary to fashion it from nothing.

“So, you understand?”

“I understand enough,” I whispered. “For now.”

“Good.” He disconnected the device from my chest and the instant I was free of it I felt a mixture of relief and unimaginable exhaustion. “I wish to inspect this in case the source of that odd sound may be found. Rest now. I shall have it returned to you before supper.”

“Doctor?”

He paused with the key to the door in his hand, poised and ready for use. He waited.

“Will I ever walk with the sun on my face again?”

He inhaled sharply. Something in my tone seemed, for just a moment, to penetrate the armor that encased him.

“It is my hope, and my intention, that you shall.” Then he offered one final word that indicated he did not know for certain if or when that could be. “Someday.”

C
HAPTER
16

I WALKED WITH SCHUYLER
through the now familiar hallway, and he paused before opening the door to the red room. “They're going to love you.”

“Oh?” I was nervous. I had no idea what, or whom it was that he was so certain would find my company a pleasurable experience.

He parted his lips as if to speak again but no words followed. He nodded, smiled, and then released the door.

First I saw the boy. He startled when he noticed me, and his eyes questioned Schuyler as to whether or not it was a wise thing, bringing me into this gathering.

“Worry not, Penn. This action is completely sanctioned by Doctor Godspeed himself. It's long since time.”

The young man who, to my mind, finally had a name, rose from his chair and bowed to me slightly in welcome. I responded with an uneasy smile, uncertain what I should expect from the room's other inhabitants.

“Everyone, we have a new friend to welcome to our happy little jigsaw family.” Schuyler announced. “She is under the care of our doctor and will be with us for, oh, as long as she needs to be with us.”

That comment twisted in my stomach, but I tried to dismiss it. I did not want a shift in my expression or my manner to make me seem disinterested, or worse, unkind to those present.

“You've already met our young friend Pennington Renfrew, or Penn as he's called. May I also introduce—”

“Hello there, lovely young woman,” a voice said from across the room. A boy who appeared to be younger than Penn came toward me, but I was unprepared for his manner of approach.

He was seated in a chair with wheels affixed to it where stationary legs should have been. “Where have they been hiding you?”

Before I could answer, he reached out a hand toward me and grasped hold of my fingers.

“My name is Jon Robeson Weatherall II, but everyone calls me Jib.” He precociously, and enthusiastically, looked up at me from below, his eyes affixed to my own as he placed a kiss upon my hand. “Lucky we are, to have you here with us tonight.”

“Oh for heaven's sake, Jib, really.” A young, feminine voice addressed us now, and I turned to see a girl standing behind me.

She was a little taller than I, with beautiful auburn hair escaping her proper, braided style in unruly curling tendrils at her ears and nape. She was dressed in the most interesting outfit; a lace overskirt that split to reveal menswear tailored pants beneath, closely fitted and oddly very stylish. Her blouse and jacket were all ruffles, buttons and lace and, analyzing it carefully, I thought to myself that surely she and I must have the same tailor. Her blouse was pink, her jacket, skirt, and pants all heather gray. It was an elegant outfit, if something I knew would never be found in any of the shops down on the main thoroughfare. Perhaps that was why it was so striking; every fashion Schuyler created seemed to be suited specifically to the person who would wear it.

The most remarkable thing about this girl, however, was the pair of tiny, gold-rimmed and rose-colored spectacles that were perched upon her tiny, upturned nose. They kept sliding down, and she'd have to reach up with a hand to push them back into their proper place. She blinked, repeatedly, and seemed to both squint and strain to look at me, causing me to wonder just how much success she was having in trying to see my face.

“Hello,” she said at last. She reached out and did not quite find my hand on her first attempt as she tried to snatch it away from Jib. “I'm Marielle Sterling. It's going to be nice to have another woman around this place.”

“Woman!” Jib laughed. “Listen to you, Marielle. All of fifteen and you're a
woman
now.”

“Well, what about you? You're only seventeen and you try to charm every woman you meet like a well-traveled man of the world.”