Clockwork Heart: Clockwork Love, Book 1 (10 page)

“I hardly tugged—”

“I’m a tinker-surgeon. I can calculate the amount of pressure my clockwork can take to the thousandth fraction of a newton. I can measure the strength of your grip after shaking your hand. You
tugged
his arm hard enough to punish him. Were his arm merely flesh and bone, your unannounced yank would have strained the ligaments of his shoulder a considerable amount. But since he is clockwork, you stressed a contact point of flesh and metal, and by design, the metal gave. Which means whatever else anyone had planned for either of us today,
now
I must spend hours repairing damage in addition to reinforcing his appendages.” His lips brushed Johann’s skin again. “Come, darling. Let’s get you upstairs to my workshop so we can put you back together.”

What Cornelius referred to as his workshop was actually the captain’s drawing room, but everyone was so stupefied by the sight of Johann’s plight, no one bothered to point out the mistake. Cornelius helped Johann up the stairs and onto the table. After demanding a vial of aether, he uncapped it, wafted it briefly beneath Johann’s nose, and Johann floated away on a pretty pink cloud for several hours. When he drifted back to the
Farthing
, Cornelius was bent over his left side, squinting through half-moon glasses as he soldered fine wires on the clockwork arm.

He favored Johann with a flash of a smile before returning to his work. “Welcome back. I’m nearly finished with your upgrades.” He wiped sweat away from his brow with a rueful smile. “Well, your
arm’s
upgrades. Your legs in general aren’t tugged about, and in any event I didn’t bring enough copper wire to apply the change everywhere.”

Johann blinked away bleariness enough to focus on Cornelius’s work. “What have you done?”

He hadn’t meant the question to be an accusation, but it hung in the air as one anyway. Cornelius’s cheerful expression faded toward grim weariness. “The technical explanation of what I’ve done would require a few hours and some detailed drawings—which I’m happy to provide, if you wish. The short version is that I’ve altered the joint where your arm’s flesh and metal meet.”

The joint in question was completely exposed, the metal casing removed to allow Johann a disturbing view of his metal conductors. His flesh stub ached a bit, which made sense as tiny metal circles had been grafted to his skin.

Cornelius pressed the soldering iron to a wire, and a gentle shower of sparks rose as he spoke. “I dislike the army’s clockwork joints, as they’re known to cause aches and sometimes shooting pains if the soldier survives longer than ten years past the assignment of mechanical parts. But the advantage to their method is a tighter, more sure fit. It took me the better part of the morning, but I’ve worked out a kind of compromise, allowing preservation of your nerve endings but also locking the joint more tightly. As insurance, though, I’m going to add a leather sling to your wardrobe. It will allow your mechanical arm to be anchored to your shoulders, meaning if you receive a tug like that, your shoulders will pitch forward instead of your clockwork giving way. This is more how a flesh arm behaves, though you’ll now have the advantage of being less likely to dislocate your shoulder because of the brace.” He smiled again, but this time the gesture seemed quite forced. “Olivia is a fine leather craftswoman as it turns out. She’s volunteered to produce my design as an apology for ripping off your arm.”

Conny seemed to run out of conversation after that, and Johann watched him work in silence. The aether clung to him like cotton, softening the edges of the world. While he knew he was still upset with Cornelius, it didn’t seem to matter at the moment. In fact, the more he watched Cornelius’s deft fingers move across his arm, the more he observed Conny’s habit of biting his lip while he focused, the more Johann thought about how good it had felt when they’d kissed and fondled one another at the café.

Then he caught Cornelius’s glance at his naked chest, at the scars over the places where Johann’s flesh organs had been replaced with ones of metal, and he remembered it all.

“Why did you make me a weapon?”

He winced as the question made Cornelius’s hand tremble, the soldering iron slipping to send a message of heat along wiring attached to his nerves. Cornelius set the implement aside and folded his hands into his lap. “I didn’t turn you into a weapon. I gave you a piece of machinery that saved your life. A pump allowing blood to circulate through your body.”

“But you said this machine is what both armies want. That they will
make
it a weapon.” He remembered the fear he’d felt when he’d first woken in Cornelius’s chamber, that he’d been turned into an automaton. How easily and foolishly he’d let the pretty man convince him otherwise.

Cornelius caught the clockwork hand in his own, curling his fingers around the metal digits as he stared earnestly into Johann’s face. “No one knows you have this heart but you and me. Félix believes it’s been stolen. Whoever broke into the shop thinks someone else got to it first. There’s no reason for anyone to suspect
you
carry the heart. No reason whatsoever.”

Johann touched the scar with his right hand. “It glows red when I run. Through a leather waistcoat.”

“If I add a shielding panel to your clothing, the problem is solved.”

It annoyed Johann for Cornelius to be nonchalant over something so serious. He glowered and forced them back to the blunt truth of the matter. “Why did you give this to me? Why did you save me and give me this horrible thing? If it’s this valuable, they won’t stop looking for it. They’ll find it. They’ll find
me
. They’ll make me their automaton. Which never would have happened if you’d left me to die as you should have.”

Cornelius rose, hugging his arms tight over the midsection of his leather apron. He went to the large wall of windows, looking out over the clouds for several moments before speaking in a quiet, defeated tone. “I didn’t know the heart was anything but a forgotten piece of machinery when I gave it to you. I only knew how angry I was with my father, my country. There was no reason to believe anyone would notice its absence.”

“But now they have. Now
I
am what they seek.”

“No.” Cornelius turned to face Johann with fire in his gaze. “They’re looking for a heart. They aren’t giving you so much as a moment’s consideration. Only a handful of people are aware I gave you
any
clockwork, and as far as they know, it’s only limbs.” He lifted his chin. “Frankly, they’d never believe I knew how to do such a complicated surgery. Everyone thinks I’m just a gentleman’s bastard mucking about, that simply working with Félix couldn’t make me as good as I am.”

Johann shut his eyes and suppressed a sigh. He clenched his fists, conscious as always that one of his fists was flesh and one was clockwork. One was his, and one belonged to Cornelius.

All his life he’d belonged to other men. To his father. To the village elders. To the army commanders. To his sergeant. To Crawley. But with all of them, he’d been able to run away. He didn’t want to run from Conny. But it bothered him that he
couldn’t.
He’d been happy to belong to Conny, when he’d been able to give himself freely. That something so personal as his own heart didn’t even belong to him any longer upset him more than he knew how to explain.

Was that why he didn’t mind kissing Cornelius? Had the heart changed him, made him the type of man Cornelius preferred? Was he even Johann Berger any longer? It was the kind of superstitious nonsense he’d scoffed at his friends in the village for. He knew enough about machines to understand they didn’t work that way.

And yet the dark thought lodged in the corner of his clockwork heart, refusing to budge, only gathering his fears and encouraging them to grow.

He dislodged his hand from Cornelius’s own. “I need to get back to work.”

He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or dejected that Conny didn’t stop him.

Chapter Eight

Sever
al days after their arrival on the pirate airship, Cornelius could deny the truth no longer. Johann was angry, and Conny had no idea how to make him happy again.

Johann was a different kind of angry than Conny was accustomed to in a man, all stoic and frowning, without any rantings or accusations, only terse exchanges and tight-lipped assurances he was well, thank you. Nothing was wrong, he insisted. Never mind it was clear as the blue sky beyond the airship something was wrong, and it was equally clear Johann had no intention of telling Cornelius about his troubles.

He’d worried he’d been too vulgar in the café—truly, he’d been utterly tame, but he feared even this had repulsed Johann. This may or may not have been a compounding factor, but one thing
was
clear: Johann was upset about his heart. It didn’t matter how many times Conny assured him no one else knew or would ever know, or how excellent he promised it would function. The disdain had spread to all his clockwork parts—anytime he needed a tune-up, he glowered sullenly until Conny turned him loose again.

The pirates found it funny. Crawley teased Conny about his lover’s spat. Olivia suggested he use his screwdriver, usually while miming circular thrusts with her pelvis. Heng didn’t laugh, only encouraged Conny to forget the Austrian and learn what the Chinese could do in bed, promising he knew erotic tricks the pedestrian West could never dream of.

Any other time, this would have tempted Conny or seemed like a good tactic to make his lover jealous. But the thought of Johann finding out and being angrier still kept Conny celibate and almost demure in his rebuff.

It helped nothing that life on a pirate ship left little room for soothing and cajoling an upset lover. Conny rose at the crack of dawn, worked like a dog until it was time for the evening meal, then did his best to stay awake until it wasn’t embarrassingly early to go to bed. Johann worked harder, and only a little of it was his effort to get away from Cornelius.

Whereas Conny spent his days in his makeshift workroom repairing and redesigning items or on the deck attempting to improve the engine and steering, Johann was a workhorse. Once Conny had his clockwork better secured for ship work, Johann was the go-to sailor for hauling, pulling and anything that had to do with weight and effort. Occasionally their tasks brought them within proximity of one another, but even if Johann hadn’t been closed off, more than perfunctory conversation would have been impossible.

At the end of each day, Conny was free, but Johann had arranged to be permanently on the evening watch, his shift ending at an hour so late Conny never had a prayer of staying awake long enough for conversation. Their repair/maintenance sessions didn’t allow for much privacy, as Johann liked to time them when Crawley or Heng was in the room.

Conny wanted to force the issue, knowing objectively he needed to get Johann to talk to him. But his feelings were bruised, and he couldn’t help wondering if some of Johann’s accusations had merit. So he allowed things to simmer until weeks had gone by with the two of them barely speaking at all.

Valentin of course had no empathy for Johann or Conny or anyone else. He was too busy being scandalized over the barbarism of pirate life and the indignity of the tasks he was asked to perform as ship’s jape. Eventually he made noise about going home. If the
Farthing
ever flew close enough to one of Valentin’s family’s chalets, Conny would urge Crawley to set his friend free. But so far they’d flown only around the coastlines and remote areas of the empire.

Twice now they’d been literal pirates, hijacking and raiding cargo airships, though until the
Farthing
was upgraded, she couldn’t catch anything but the most pathetic ships, which meant they in turn had meager cargo. The crew at best broke even, though this was apparently an improvement over conditions since before the three of them had boarded in Calais.

One day the
Farthing
landed on a private island off the coast of France, and everyone but Conny and Valentin participated in a tense but lucrative raid for supplies, rations and a modest amount of treasure. Crawley and Heng beamed as they returned to the ship, slapping each other on the back and boasting of the party they’d have once they were airborne again. However, when Johann returned with sweat dripping down his neck and his face flushed, instinct told Cornelius something wasn’t right. Since he hadn’t had a chance to properly see to the clockwork heart since they’d boarded, he needed to begin there and work his way outward. Which meant, like it or not, Johann needed to be alone with him.

“Johann, I need to check your clockwork. Right away. I need your cabin, Captain.” Conny’s clipped tone made it clear this was a demand, not a request.

Crawley leered, mouth open for a joke, but he shut it and frowned when he saw Conny’s face. “Is Johnny injured? Let me help.”

“I’m fine,” Johann bit off, and started to lumber away.

Cornelius caught him fast by his flesh arm as he addressed Crawley. “I must examine him, alone, in your quarters. We must not be interrupted.” He realized he didn’t have his tools and passed Johann’s arm to the pirate captain. “Take him there, please. I need a few things, and I’ll be along.”

Johann fought to get free of them both. “I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t want
anyone
to touch me,
Schwein
.”

Conny started to argue, but then he got a better look at Johann, at his pale skin, more sweaty now than ever, and his glazed expression.
Oh no.
He ignored Johann and spoke only to Crawley. “Your cabin.
Immediately.
Bind him if you must, but
gently.
Do not let him strain if you can help it.”

As Conny hurried to his workroom, Crawley, Heng and Olivia fought to wrestle Johann away, and by the time Conny re-emerged with his bag, Val and Molly had joined in. Johann struggled in the center of the room, flailing as they attempted to tie him to a chair.

Valentin huddled to the side, looking uneasy. “He is like a beast.”

“One of his clockworks is making him ill.” Conny managed to keep his voice even, but only just.
It’s his heart. This can only be his heart.

At this point Johann fought everyone, not just Cornelius, though when he caught sight of the tinker, his curses became more pointed and were punctuated with spittle. He’d regressed to German, which meant only Crawley, Molly and Heng knew what he said to any degree. Whatever they heard made them glance at one another with wide eyes.

Cornelius had no time to waste. “Out, all of you. I must have the room to work. I may have to operate.”

“You can’t think you can hold him down yourself.” Molly dodged a swat from Johann’s arm not yet tied down. “Also, he’s plenty upset with you. Says you turned him into a monster and turned his heart to lead. Or something like that. My German’s only so-so, though I think he sounds crazy in any language right now.”

“I have aether to subdue him, and I work best alone when I operate.” He glanced around the room at the pitcher of water and cake of soap beside the basin. “All I require is clean linen and your departure.”

They helped him dose Johann and lay him out on a pallet, but even after the others had left, Crawley lingered, crouching beside Cornelius on the floor and grimacing at his sailor. “I’ll give you whatever you need, including a pair of hands. I was a surgeon’s mate in my early days. I know what the tools are and how to stay out of the way.”

Welcome as assistance would be under any other circumstances, Conny didn’t dare let the pirates know they carried treasure beyond their wildest imaginings inside their second-least-favorite sailor’s chest. He shook his head. “Thank you, but I don’t need assistance.”

“Fair enough. If you change your mind, I’ll be outside the door.”

Once the captain left, Cornelius set the locks. He boiled his instruments in a copper bowl on the small potbellied stove in the corner, and while the water cooled enough for him to wash his hands in it, he stripped to his shirt, rucking up the sleeves and pinning them in place with the inside loop. He donned his surgical apron. He lined up the instruments on a towel beside Johann. He scrubbed his hands and forearms until his skin was beet red.

Then he picked up his scissors and cut carefully through the thin line of flesh that had grown over the door to the heart.

He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell much on what could be wrong, but now that the clockwork heart lay whirring before him, he let the possibilities spin out. The gears worked well enough—nothing needed oiling, though he sluiced them all for good measure. Nothing in particular appeared broken. But something was amiss—he could smell it. First figuratively, and then when he leaned closer, literally.

Dirty. The heart was dirty. Not yet so much it impaired function, though that was on its way. Now it was only enough contamination to give Johann an infection. The scent of bacteria lingered behind the dirty clockwork, confirming his suspicions. It leached poison into Johann’s blood and made him irritable and irrational. Made him sweaty, and a quick check of his temperature confirmed it also made him feverish. Caught earlier, the debris could have been easily dealt with. But Cornelius had pushed off the maintenance due to Johann’s foul mood—the part of it having everything to do with Cornelius and nothing to do with his improperly maintained heart—and in the meantime, Johann had worked seven or eight times as hard as usual, creating more contamination. And infection.

He could not be seen to now, not with the heart inside him. It must be bathed in solution while the infection in Johann was treated, and then it must be reset. It required a Lazarus machine. It required a hospital, or better yet, Master Félix’s laboratory. Under absolutely no circumstances could it be done on a pirate ship with minimal tools and one pair of hands.

In short, it couldn’t be done.

Cornelius crouched beside the pallet, pressing his upper arm over his mouth and nose so he didn’t contaminate his hands as he shut his eyes and did his best not to weep.

He told himself it would have ended here anyway. Johann had only ever been meant to die, and at best Conny had delayed that a bit. He’d given the man a significant extension, which was a minor miracle. He’d kept the heart safe too, which could quite conceivably save the world from chaos and destruction. He’d done his best. He couldn’t ask anything more of himself. Because to go into any hospital would mean exposure, which would mean Johann’s death, or worse, that he’d be turned into a clockwork soldier after all.

This was sound reason, all of it. And every last bit made Cornelius want to destroy the cabin in heart-wrenching fury. He would not accept logic or reason. He never did. There was a way. If he only had a Lazarus machine, he could do it right now. Inside of an hour.

He paced back and forth, murmuring as he searched desperately for an alternate plan. If he was clever and careful, perhaps he could get to Master Félix. If they changed course now, flew directly to Calais, they could make it. Of course, it would mean extra fuel. And getting Johann across town somehow. Without either of them getting attacked, or kidnapped, or killed.

And he’d have to convince the pirates, without letting them know why. Which they’d never agree to. Or he’d have to confess what Johann carried, which risked their turning him over for profit.

Which meant Johann would die. Likely not tonight, but sometime in the next few days. He’d go painfully, and he’d leave this earth hating Cornelius. Quite possibly with just cause.

Conny shut his eyes, swallowing his sobs as quietly as he could while tears ran down his cheeks.

He didn’t hear the scratches on the door at first, not until a soft knock came as well. “Conny?”

Valentin. His emotions playing fast and loose with him now, Cornelius sobbed, audible enough for the sound to echo in the room. He didn’t even straighten when the door opened, only remained where he was, hunched and powerless beside Johann’s body. When Valentin put hands on his shoulders, Cornelius leaned into his friend. “H-how did you get in?”

“I begged a key from Heng. Besides, they were nervous about you locked in here alone with him.” He stroked Cornelius’s hair. “Darling, tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?”

There seemed no point in hiding anything now. If Val betrayed him, it’d simply give Cornelius more reason to throw himself over the railing of the airship. He gestured to Johann’s open chest. “He needs a Lazarus machine.”

“Then we’ll go to a hospital. There’s no need for tears.”

Cornelius shook his head. “He can’t go. No one would know how to fix him but me or Master Félix. Anyone else would kill him to take the clockwork I’ve given him.”

“
Conny.
You’re too dramatic.”

Cornelius shut his eyes. “I gave him the clockwork heart, Val.”

“A clockwork heart? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Except that people have tried, and they’re impossible.”

“They’re not impossible. There’s only one, and Johann has it now. Master Félix made it years ago. No one else can replicate his work. He refused to use it, kept it locked away. Until I stole it and put it in Johann.” His secrets, once spilled, tumbled out of him. “Someone’s trying to steal it, possibly my own father. They don’t know it’s inside Johann. No one does. They’d kill him to take it, to use it to power soldiers. Except I’m killing him now. I didn’t take care of him, and now he’s dying.”

“My God.” Valentin let out a shaking breath. “Conny, what in the world have you done?
Why
did you do this?”

“I couldn’t stand to see him die.”

“Of course. To you, everything is so simple.” He sighed. “Your mother is a world-class spy. Your father a ruthless leader. How that combination produced such a tender, impulsive creature, I’ll never understand.”

Tears would not stop running down Cornelius’s cheeks. “He won’t survive this. Not without a Lazarus machine. But if I tell the pirates, they’ll steal the heart. It’s worth all the money in the world.”

Valentin huffed. “No, it isn’t. Your father, or whoever seeks this machine, would kill anyone connected to it. It’s not a gold mine. It’s a death sentence. One they’ve already signed by taking you on. But don’t worry. They’ll help you, and Johann too.” He stroked Cornelius’s hair again. “I’ll see to it.”