Copper Visions (5 page)

“But I am,” David said. “You object to Sophie's arms, to what they're made of, to the fact that they are possible.”

“Yes,” said Mr. White. “That is precisely what we object to about Sophie. And weren't you, Mr. Alexander, the same scientist who declared that they were impossible? That mechanical body parts would never be practical because the human body was too fragile?”

“I postulated that, until an alloy was discovered that was many times lighter than was currently available, the human bone and musculature would not be able to operate mechanical body parts in a way that would be beneficial to the people requiring them,” David said. “I'm glad to have been proven wrong.”

“But what if you weren't, Mr. Alexander,” Mr. White said. “What if you were incredibly accurate, in the way only your type can be?”

“I'm afraid you've lost me, Mr. White,” David said. “Clearly the mechanical limbs work. I would imagine a person who had been working in the mines would have a more developed musculature than somebody who hadn't had that kind of physical job. I suppose my first assumption of the fact that the only people who could afford the artificial limbs would not have had the kind of physical activity leading to that kind of musculature was the most erroneous part.”

“No, that part is correct. The scientists who developed the machines that drive the limbs paid for test subjects to put them on. People who would otherwise have died were given these limbs before, many of them did not survive the surgery. Those that did were often killed by the visions.”

“What visions?” Sophie said. “I've never had any visions.”

“Oh, dear,” Mr. Sail said, shaking his head. “That was our other hypothesis. That you were too far gone down the road to hell to not be aware that your body had been taken over by evil forces. The diabolical nature of the very things inside you have taken you beyond redemption. Because, my dear, you have visions. Almost daily, in fact, and recorded by the very people you've come to view as your saviors.”

“How do you know that?” Sophie asked, terrified by the news. “How could you possibly know that?”

Mr. Sail gestured to the young man standing behind his chair. “Jem here used to work for the scientists who created your arms, Sophie. When he discovered what they were doing, he came to us, bringing along the information we needed to listen in on the radio transmitter they had installed in your apartments. By the way, your landlady is being paid by multiple parties, she won't be kicking you out any time soon. I imagine, at this point, she makes more off your rooms than the rest of her tenants combined.”

“Be that as it may,” Mr. Rum said. “Once we heard the content of these visions, we knew we had to act. To save the country and your soul.

“Using any method necessary,” Mr. White finished.

“Like hell you will,” Sophie jumped from her chair. “Maybe I should have died in that accident but I didn't and I have no plans to try and change that.”

“Of course not, my dear,” Mr. Sail said, shooting a glance at Mr. White. “Although, strictly speaking, you did die. The scientists were able to bring you back to life and replace your arms. We suspect that whatever method they used to bring you back has some impact on you surviving the surgery.”

“Jem says there's a demon involved,” Mr Rum said. “There are certain ways to tell if a demon had impacted somebody's life, the first being to engage them in conversation, the way Mr. Sail did earlier.”

“Did he have to make me think he died?” Sophie asked.

“That was part of the second test; to see if you were going to use unorthodox means to dispose of a problem. The most common are setting the body on fire or simply eating it. None of us expected you to go for help, though the nature of the help you obtained is troubling.”

“I hesitate to ask how my helping is a troubling because I think I know,” David said. “But I also wish to be very clear with what you're accusing us of. And it is 'us', isn't it, Mr. White?”

“Come now, Mr. Alexander,” Mr. Rum said. “You know as well as I do what the most popular theories are behind your animation.”

“Popular because they are the most sensational,” David said. “Nothing more than unsubstantiated rumor and sensationalism.”

“Substantiated by notes found in the wreckage of the good professors lab,” Mr. White said.

“That are impossible to authenticate because they've gone missing,” David returned. “Unless you have more information than I have, which I sincerely doubt, seeing as I worked in that lab with the professor for several years.”

There was a smug silence among the three men until Mr. Sail continued. “The third thing to look for was, we decided, imprudent to pursue away from a secured location, as it would involve requests that were likely to be misconstrued.”

“And you wouldn't want the other people listening in to know you were looking for a mark on her body,” David said. “I'm sure none of you considered that she might not want to disrobe for a stranger.”

“Why not?” Mr. Sail asked. “After all, I was paying her.”

“Aside from the fact that you didn't,” Sophie bit out. “I. Am. Not. A prostitute.”

“A detail,” Mr. Sail waved his hand to dismiss this. “And the reason you were going to be brought here. Mrs. Perkins will examine you to preserve whatever modesty you claim to have left and will notify us if she finds anything troubling, at which point we will come to observe and confer.”

“You will not!” Sophie exclaimed. “I won't allow Mrs. Perkins or anybody else to examine me without my clothes on, especially not for something so stupid as some kind of mark from a demon.”

“Still the pretense of modesty,” Mr. Sail said, shaking his head. “Seems such a silly thing to cling to, especially now. You realize that, to give you new arms, they couldn't operate with your clothes on. Why, Jem here has seen you without so much as a stitch on.”

“She was all bloody, though,” Jem said, leering at her. “I didn't get to see much of the good bits.”

Sophie colored from embarrassment and outrage. “Absolutely not. The whole thing is out of the question and we're leaving.” It was when she tried the door handle that she remembered it was locked.

“If you'll remember,” Mr. Rum said. “You intruded on us, coming to a private club, owned by a private organization and digging through our trash. This interview will be over when we say it's over.”

Panic held Sophie in its grip, her mind spinning with possibilities, each more horrible than the last. David stood and addressed the men in front of him.

“Gentlemen, I'm afraid I must agree with my friend. What you propose is inappropriate and completely unnecessary. I am animated by scientifically discovered and proven forces, as are Sophie's arms. Base superstition aside, there is no way to prove anything different.” He walked over to stand with Sophie by the door. “Now, if you'll please call Mrs. Perkins to unlock this door?”

“No,” said Mr. White.

“Very well,” David said and ripped the lock out of the door.

The three men jumped out of their chairs as David propelled Sophie out of the room and down the corridor. Mrs. Perkins met them at the top of the stairs and Sophie knocked her over as they ran. The look on her face as she landed on her backside in the hallway gave Sophie a lot of satisfaction in the next few days. Finding the front door locked as they reached it, she applied her shoulder to it and heard the satisfying sound of wood cracking as it broke open. They ran, not caring that people were watching, ignoring the shouts for them to stop that drifted further behind them. They last voice they heard was Jem shouting “I saw the demon.”

They eventually slowed to allow Sophie to catch her breath. David handed her the bag he'd insisted she pack, and which had been subsequently dropped during their interview, and started walking toward her street.

“Do you think it's safe to go back there?” Sophie asked, nervous.

“I think we should find out if anything happened after we left,” David said. “I sincerely doubt they'll try anything on the street, especially since they gave us false names. We'll take a more roundabout route to get there, though, just in case they decide to risk it and follow us.”

“How do you know they gave us false names?”

“I recognized Mr. Rum from a story in the paper. The sketch they ran with it was obviously an idealization of the man but it was still him. He was being profiled as the most successful importer of rum for the last five years. I suspect the men took names from the industries they're involved in. Their club strikes me as a professional organization trying to ape a gentleman's club or charity so fewer questions will be asked.”

“Well, that would make sense. I guess Mr. Sail has something to do with ships or shipping. What does Mr. White do?”

“I don't know but, considering what the others do, it may be prudent to find out.”

They walked in silence, occasionally skirting rubbish bins as they ducked down alleys to get away from the wider streets where they would be easier to spot.

“I'm sorry I dragged you into this, David,” Sophie said eventually.

“I'm not,” he said. “I knew I would have enemies here when I decided to come. You've helped me to uncover some very important information and we've cleared you of a possible murder charge. That's all to the good, I should think.”

“You know, David, if I didn't know better, I'd think you had a sense of humor.”

“It's a good thing you know better, then,” David said, scanning the street around them. His eye caught a dark plume of smoke rising over the nearby houses. He pointed it out to Sophie and said, “That can't be good.”

“It looks awfully close to my apartments,” she answered, walking faster. There was no way to tell from where they were which house had gone up but a feeling deep in her stomach convinced her it was hers.

They turned at the clang of bells to see a water cart moving quickly towards them, followed by a cart carrying men with axes and rope. The fire-brigade rarely came to this part of town unless there was some danger of the other houses going up and spreading the fire through the city. They broke into a run as Sophie saw a hint of angry red flames in the smoke.

When they rounded the corner, there was only one house on fire, the street filled with people. Some had come to help, most had come to watch; there were bets being taken on which house would go up next. Fire burst out of one of the windows as Sophie realized that the worst of her fears was true.

The boarding house was on fire.

Nobody knew how the fire had started but most were very excited with the news that there had been more than the usual number of people in and out during the day. The people answering their questions were from surrounding streets and had come to watch the spectacle. David had judged it wise not to get much closer until they found out what was going on.

The fire raged, and speculation surged about what could cause a fire that burned so hot and lasted so long. More water carts were coming to wet the houses next door in the hope that it wouldn't spread. There was little that could be done to stop the house that was on fire from burning, especially since small explosions would go off occasionally that seemed to make it burn hotter.