Godspeed (18 page)

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Authors: February Grace

BOOK: Godspeed
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“He's been working so long, though, he really must be hungry.”

“His body may demand food but his mind will override. I swear this is why God put me on this Earth, to be certain that Quinn Godspeed does not die from lack of sustenance.” He realized suddenly that a helping hand might be necessary. “Check the door. If he's
locked it, you'll have to reach into my pocket for the key. This tray is much too heavy for you to hold.”

I nodded. I gently turned the handle to the door and found that it was, indeed, locked. I retrieved Schuyler's key ring and put the key in place. Just as I was about to turn it, I bit my lip and looked back at him. “Do you think we should knock?”

“No. He's used to the sound of the key alone; that will not interrupt him as he's working if he is deep in concentration. A banging at the door would.”

“You two have quite a system worked out for all this, don't you?”

“Comes of knowing a man all his life,” Schuyler answered, a wistful smile crossing his face. “I know many things about him that only a lifetime of experience with him could tell. Go on, then. Open the door.”

I took a deep breath, nodded, and opened the door.

At first we saw nothing, but then we heard a clacking sound, like the keys of a typewriter, only several hitting all at once instead of one at a time. There was another sound, a metallic twang of sorts impossible to identify, and then the sound of Quinn's muttering as he rambled under his breath, words too softly spoken to be understood.

“Quinn, it's time for tea.”

Schuyler set the tray down upon a table and waited for Quinn to respond. When he did not, Schuyler simply set about fixing him a cup. I watched and thought that by now I could likely fix Quinn's tea myself to his liking: a small amount of milk, and three heaping teaspoons of sugar.

Schuyler sighed as Quinn still showed no sign he had any cognizance of our presence. “Quinn Godspeed.” Schuyler's tone became impatient. “You've been working for twelve hours. It is time for you to take tea.”

“I'm busy, Schuyler,” Quinn grumbled, his hand waving the cup away. I nodded to Schuyler and took the cup from him, then circled around the opposite side of the pile of typewriter parts that now surrounded the doctor.

Unable to bear another moment in suspense, I dared to speak at last. “Do you think it will help her, sir?” I asked.

Suddenly, Quinn's entire demeanor changed. He regarded me and hurried to get to his feet. “I wonder…” he said, speaking directly to me now. I held the teacup, perched upon its saucer, out before
him, and he snatched it from my hands with fingers stained with ink from the ribbons. He sipped the tea, and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Schuyler's face was crimson, his expression not at all pleasant. He appeared frustrated that I had garnered Quinn's attention where he'd failed.

“Schuyler brought fresh biscuits along with the tea he made for you,” I added, trying to smooth over the moment for my host. Schuyler seemed to relax a little, precisely until Quinn spoke again.

“Hang the biscuits,” he said, quickly draining his teacup dry and then handing it back to me. “Come here, look at this, I want to show you something.”

I hurried to set the cup back on the tray, then noticed that the next sound I heard was that of the door slamming as Schuyler stormed from the room.

Still, I could give little thought to his tantrum now, when I was so close to seeing how the Doctor's newest invention would work.

“You see, I've created two separate keyboard designs,” he explained, pointing first to one than another pile of parts on the floor. “I was thinking…” He reached around me to the edge of the desk and picked up one of his leather journals. He flipped it open to a page he had dog-eared and gestured toward the illustrations on each side. “For this one, you see, I have separated the keys into vowels and consonants. Then I've placed the numbers in small rows there, off to the right.” His brilliant blue eyes sparked with energy and fire as he spoke. “You see, I believe Lilibet to favor her right hand.”

“And the other design?”

“This one is quite different, and it's why I needed the parts from more than one machine,” he explained. “I have made a few critical words, geared the machine so that all the letters needed to make them will strike the ribbon at once, and then the words will be printed out on a roll of paper, instead of individual sheets. Easier for her to manage it that way, I believe, and will make it much more portable.”

“Portable?” I breathed the word with great excitement; the idea of Lilibet not only learning somehow to communicate her thoughts to the outside world, but also having a tool with which she could do it wherever she went thrilled me beyond explanation. Long had I stared deep into that girl's endless eyes and wondered just what thoughts were locked up inside of her.

“Yes.” Quinn moved across the room, began rummaging inside a large trunk, and then returned with a small, wooden suitcase in his hands. He opened up the latch, then the lid, revealing inside the carefully organized pieces of a Chess set.

In the next moment he dumped them out onto the floor without a thought, and then he moved swiftly back to his pile of keys. “I mean to make the internal works of the thing a part of this case, with the keys poking through holes I will create in the surface.” His lip curled up at the corner into that almost-smile that had the power to steal my breath away. “If I can but persuade her to try this, to show me if she is willing to work with one design over the other, then I will know which to put into the case. Then she will be able to take the case with her and tap out her words to communicate.”

“Will it be too heavy for her to carry?”

“Not if I have designed it properly. And besides,” Quinn's eyebrows moved rapidly up and down once. “She's stronger than you think.”

“When will we be able to try her on it?” I was so anxious now I could barely wait to see if it would work.

“Tomorrow,” Quinn answered, “If I can work without interruption tonight.”

“You must eat something, sir, please,” I entreated. “Toast and jam, if nothing else.” I had noticed by this point his fondness for that particular food, and often eaten at times one might consider odd for it, especially later in the evenings.

“Fine, some toast, then, to accompany the tea. Then we set to work.”

I blinked, startled. “We, Doctor?”

“Unless you'd rather wait and see how it turns out when I'm finished.”

I thought my heart might leap from my chest. “No, sir, of course not, I…” I felt color rush to my cheeks and life into my heart, a thrill unlike any I had ever known. Now I wouldn't just be stacking his books or watching him from afar; I would be his assistant in this most important of projects. “I will be glad to set to work as soon as you've had your meal. I'll go and tell Schuyler.”

“Have him send some soup down for you as well,” Quinn insisted as I left. “It wouldn't do for you to go without dinner.”

*   *   *

I did not know that I had fallen asleep in the laboratory until I awoke there.

It took me a moment to process what had happened, and I panicked as I reached down for the familiar, singular charm which always hung around my neck and found it missing.

Then I realized that I was lying not on the table where I'd had so many procedures, but in Quinn's chair, with my feet propped up upon a tapestry covered footstool, and a warm, soft blanket thrown over me.

Quinn heard me startle and looked up from his spot, working nearby on the floor, still surrounded by leftover, now obsolete typewriter parts.

“It's all right,” he assured me. “You fell asleep on the floor while we were working, and it was time for the works to recharge. It is still too early for you to be awake, go back to sleep.”

I wondered that he didn't insist on taking me up to my room so I could sleep there, but I was much too happy where I was to bring up the point.

I was near him, as his thoughts hummed and buzzed along so quickly in his head that they filled the room with an unmistakable magic, an atmosphere that could only be conjured by the forces of nature and creation themselves.

I did not want to go back up to my lonely room, not when I could be so close to him.

Neither did I wish to go back to sleep, but my eyes felt heavy once more. Despite my best attempts to prevent it I did slip away; my last thoughts as I drifted were that at least while I was sleeping, I could dream of his arms around me, holding me close and never releasing the embrace.

When I awoke again, it was to the sound of Quinn's steps shuffling around the room. I opened my eyes and tried to stay still, not wanting to lose a moment I could have to gaze upon him, as I knew I would if he caught me watching.

I observed him with two sets of works for his would-be talking machine, side by side on the surface of his desk. He gently tapped the keys on first one and then the other and nodded with satisfaction as the paper scrolled from each. I was absolutely awestruck; both of his reworked designs were logical in different ways, and I hoped with all my heart that one of them would be enough to intrigue Lilibet to the point she'd be willing to try.

As fascinated as I was by the sight as he tested out his inventions, I was concerned about him. He looked utterly worn down. Ebon circles shadowed eyes as red as a summer sunset. As blue as they also were, it gave one the curious thought of watching the evening horizon change over a restless ocean.

He teetered on his feet and I worried that the strain may overcome him; I had to try to get him, now, to rest.

“Good evening,” he said to me without looking up; keenly aware of my continual stare. “The charm is recharged, you may affix it if you like.”

“I really should bathe and dress, first.” I took stock of myself and realized that I was in sorry shape. I had smudges of ink on my wrists, fingers, and who knew where else after I'd apparently fallen asleep in the middle of our work. I'd spent the night handing him tools, holding things in place as he made adjustments, working as a second set of hands to steady and secure tiny screws and findings. In some small way, I had been able to assist him, and the moments we worked in quiet concert, him saying nothing beyond the giving of direction here, the indicating where my hands should be placed, there, were now permanently inscribed into my memory.

“Very well.” He handed me the box that safely stored the charm while it was charging, and I accepted it.

“Will you rest soon, Doctor Godspeed? Please?”

“As soon as I am able,” he replied. He noted the worry in my eyes and he nodded gently, acknowledging, if only to me, that he was tired. “My word upon it.”

I rose slowly to my feet, wobbling slightly. He eyed me warily, and I lowered my gaze. How naked I felt whenever I stood before him thus, seeing him so closely analyze me. Even if only as his patient, to be so keenly observed by the man completely unnerved me.

He seemed satisfied that I was all right as I found my footing and tread softly toward the door. I reached for the handle but then paused. “Do you think that it will work, sir?”

“One can never know with a child like Lilibet,” Quinn replied, his voice heavy with the burden of one who had tried, unsuccessfully, to know. “We can only hope, and in a little while, we shall see.”

C
HAPTER
20

I ADJUSTED THE SHOULDERS
of my dress and watched in the mirror as the light bounced off the face of the charm. Then, as I had done so many times before, I opened it up and stood before my reflection, transfixed, as the gears and cogs inside the works spun. I was still unable to fathom just how it fed enough power through the humming wires in my chest and into my heart.

I thought about the last time Quinn had listened to my heartbeat, just two days since, and how he'd remarked that it sounded stronger to him than he had ever heard it before.

How was it that he didn't know, that he didn't immediately understand, that it was stronger and beat faster because he was so near? That the power that drove my heart to pound so was the strength of the love I had felt since the first time I set eyes upon him?

I chastised myself and stopped to catch my breath as I felt suddenly winded. He didn't see because he had no reason to: only love in a person's heart could help them recognize its like in someone else. I had never been more certain of this than I had become watching Marielle and Penn, and I wondered if they would ever wake simultaneously to realize the emotion already existed in the other.

I heard a knock at my door and turned as I bid my visitor to enter.

Only a head became visible in the doorway; a smile upon the face of the person it belonged to.

“They're here,” Penn said, gesturing toward the hall beyond. “The doctor asked me to send Lilibet down to his laboratory as soon as she arrived, to have you escort her.”

My stomach fluttered with a flock of birds taking wing. Now we would find out if anything could bridge the chasm between Lilibet's mind and the words of the outside world. I had absolute faith that if anything — anyone — could accomplish construction of that bridge, it was Godspeed.

“Then I had best not keep the doctor waiting. Thank you, Penn.”

*   *   *

Lilibet was always reluctant to leave her usual spot beside the piano, but today she was downright defiant. I wondered if it was because she did not want to go with me, or because of the fact that she did not want to miss it if Jib started to play while we were out of the room.

It was upon thinking of this that I realized that Jib was not immediately taking to the piano today. He was sitting quietly in his chair near the entrance to the room, and he did not look well.

In fact, upon approaching him and looking him fully in the face, I saw that he looked much worse than unwell.

His eyes were glazed and glassy; his face appeared swollen, much rounder than usual. On closer inspection I found his hands were distorted from their normal size as well and I could only imagine by looking at the way that he was slouching in his chair that the rest of him must be just as uncomfortable.

Schuyler took note the same time I did and immediately knelt beside the chair. He whispered to Jib, and the boy nodded.

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