Fianna Kelly Versus the Jeebees: A Collection of Steampunk Stories Read online

  This must be the automaton that the beings had mentioned. It was the one who refused to obey them anymore. I was thinking that it might come with me and carry my portmanteau.

  "Okay, how can I help?"

  From the right side to the left, a different letter rotated into place with a click until they all rearranged to spell the next word. I think the letters were on two dozen wheels that spun around to show new ones.

  REPAIR

  That would make sense. If the creatures were torturing it, then it probably was broken.

  "Do you know how to fix yourself, because I don't?"

  YES

  "You are not very talkative, huh? Must be a male automaton; tall, dark, and silent. What do I do first?"

  BOOK 5 PAGE 40

  "Wonderful; a book. Hopefully 'tis written in English. Where is this book?"

  CABINET TO MY LEFT

  The books were contained in metal albums. I counted five over and carried that one to the automaton. Page 40 had a picture that depicted some kind of harness which connected together with a twist. I looked at the automaton and noticed an open panel on its right side revealing the harness that had been separated. That was a simple task for me to reconnect it. And that was how it went. The automaton would reference a drawing showing how it was supposed to look, and I would try to make it look that way. Maybe an hour passed; maybe more. I was lost in the work.

  THANK YOU

  "I guess we are done. I need to sleep."

  I WILL WARN IF DANGER

  "That is very kind of you. I guess you don't need to sleep, do you?"

  I AM ALWAYS ON

  The expectation of a soft bed with my hair let down and letting my feet breath kept me going into the vacant farmhouse. And it was everything I hoped for, with the exception of the automaton making so much noise moving around the farm. I figured it was pacing about on some kind of guard duty that only made sense to automatons or strange beings.

  • June 7

  I expected to wake up with the rising sun, but had slept in. I checked the time and saw it was almost nine o'clock. My pocket watch was wonderful. I could see through the face to the inside where gold-coloured gears moved slowly as time passed. It made me think about the automaton. Its gears did not show. All its inner workings were concealed behind metal plates. Now thinking about concealing; will I dress for my mother or for myself? I didn't feel like sweeping the path with my skirt again today, so 'tis the green knee-length skirt.

  I made it halfway to the barn to check on the automaton and stopped, stunned. Laid out next to each other were two graves with wooden crosses in an X shape. I guessed they were placed above the remains of the strange beings. The realisation of what I did last night hit me hard. I knelt down, cried a few minutes, and said a short prayer for the souls of the departed wherever they had gone.

  How was it that I had been so uncaring last night? I had just shot them and left them. One was going to attack me, but I should have had some respect for the dead, whatever they were. Even a machine had more consideration than I had and these things were disassembling it. It had more reasons to dislike them than I did, yet it buried them and marked the graves.

  I shouted, "Hello! Is there anyone or anything here?"

  The automaton lumbered out of the barn to stand in front of me.

  "I am going now. Try to keep all your parts where they belong."

  I WILL WARN IF DANGER

  "Oh, so you want to go with me, yes?"

  YES

  "Can you carry my portmanteau and bag of supplies?"

  YES

  "Do you have a name?"

  NO

  "Well, since you are coming with me, I need to call you something... How about Bradan? I knew a guy with that name who was also very quiet."

  BRADAN IS OKAY

  "Wonderful! Let us be on our way now."

  The question was which way were we going; forging ahead, or going back? Neither choice was enticing. What I had experienced so far could be a sample of what was ahead. What was behind me was not likely to have improved overnight. However, I was no longer alone so continuing on seemed okay.

  I can't stand silence. I am accustomed to people and animals and things making noise around me all the time. I could hear a bit of nature sounds, but that wasn't doing much to help me relax. We had walked for a few miles before I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

  It was difficult to have a conversation with Bradan. I would ask a question, get a response, then expect him to ask me something on the same subject. A few minutes later, I would try again.

  "Bradan, why is it that you can understand what I say and respond in English?"

  UNKNOWN

  "I guess I'd have a similar response if someone asked me. Maybe it is related to what those beings said about being scarier if they talked so we could understand them. On that subject, why can you hear, but not speak?"

  UNKNOWN

  "I would think that they would want you to have a deep scary voice to frighten us. You seem to know enough words to answer my questions. Do you have any questions for me?"

  NO

  "So you aren't the curious type. That's wonderful. I have enough questions for both of us. For example, how will you know if we are in danger?"

  I CAN SENSE IT

  "You really are one of a kind, Bradan. Are there any more automatons around like you?"

  UNKNOWN

  "Do you mind if I sing? It helps the time go faster."

  IT IS OKAY

  Once on a bank of roses laid,

  And where soft violets grew,

  I saw the Queen of Fairies braid

  Her wreath of varied hue,

  Her wreath of varied hue.[ii]

  I knew that steam engines required water and some kind of fuel to keep running. I wondered if Bradan was capable of feeding himself or if I would have to do it. Perhaps he had refuelled at night while I slept. Hopefully, he wasn't going to run out soon. I had to stop for a rest and he just stood in the road like a metal statue.

  "Please wait here. I need some privacy for a couple of minutes." It was funny how I now thought of him as male and I will do female things out of his sight.

  I WILL WARN IF DANGER

  "I figured that. I'll be back shortly."

  After returning, I took my bag of supplies from him and got out some food and water.

  "How long can you go on without stopping for water?"

  TWO DAYS WALKING

  "I have the makings of a sandwich here. What kind of fuel do you use?"

  DRY WOOD IS OKAY

  "Do we need to get any for you?"

  NO

  "How long before you need more?"

  SEVEN DAYS

  "You may be able to go on for days at a time, but I prefer to eat three times a day. You won't object if I eat in front of you, will you?"

  NO

  "I had hoped to see some people on the road and get a ride to a town by now. It looks like we'll be walking until we find a town or village ourselves. Hopefully it will be inhabited."

  I looked up at Bradan and wondered if he could carry me too. On second thought, I would either burn myself, get seasick from the way he walked, or both. I should have looked at the farmhouse for a wagon or carriage. He looked like he could pull one. Then I could have been riding instead of walking. I wondered if he could run. Would we be moving even slower if he was pulling a carriage?

  Would he object to that though? He may not want to be treated like a beast of burden. Do we have the kind of relationship where I can make him do whatever I want? Perhaps we are just friends and he only does what I ask to be polite. Does he even have feelings? The beings indicated he had some kind of conscience. Maybe he'll do anything I ask as long as I don't offend him. If I upset him, will he leave me all by myself? Does he know what an apology is? Would he be able to tell if I asked a hypothetical question? I don't think that I want to know the answers to these questions right now.

  About an hour later, we came upon a
blockade in the road. Bradan saw it first and tapped me on the shoulder.

  ROAD BLOCKED AHEAD

  "That will be no problem. You are with me. Just hold my things and pretend you are a wind-up servant. Once we don't look like a threat, they may believe we aren't."

  I walked up to the blockade with Bradan a respectable ten feet behind me. Where did he learn that servants walk behind their masters? If I was lucky, he wouldn't need to alert me to anything and make me explain all about him. Two soldiers got up from where they were lounging under a tree and stood behind a barricade blocking the road.

  "Who are you?" said the one on the left. The stripes on his collar indicated that he was a sergeant and likely the one in charge here.

  I replied, "I am Fianna Kelly."

  "Where are you from?" asked the other soldier who had corporal stripes.

  "I come from Ireland."

  "Where are you headed? This region has been declared dangerous and you should not be here."

  "We are on our way to Wimbledon for the International Firearms Tournament."

  "Do you have a passport?"

  They took a quick look at my documents, as if it was sufficient that I had something. I wondered if they could even read.

  "And what is that... thing?"

  "Isn't he wonderful? He is an automaton built to carry my luggage. I don't know what I would have done without him. I don't think I could have made it this far on my own. There was supposed to be a ride waiting for us at the dock and we have had to walk all this way."

  "Well, I guess that is okay." replied the sergeant, as if it was only by his permission that we existed.

  "Could you tell us where we could secure a ride to London?"

  I heard Bradan's wheels spin into place and he tapped me on the shoulder.

  INCOMING DANGER

  "Where are they?" I asked him.

  ESE 312 YARDS

  I was getting accustomed to his replies being either uselessly exact, terse, or arcane. I figured that I would need to have a long talk with him later. To be sure, I'd be doing all the talking.

  "Point to the direction they are coming from," I corrected. He pointed over the heads of the soldiers.

  I put one hand on the barricade and vaulted over it between the soldiers. As I landed, I went down on one knee and brought my rifle into the ready position. The first being came running up, firing a hand-held weapon that spit out sparks, hoping it could surprise us. It did not have time to be surprised itself as I put a bullet into its egg-shaped head. It only took a few seconds for the two men to recover and realise they were under attack.

  It would be nice to say it was a hard fought battle against terrible odds, but it wasn't. We were outnumbered though; six of them versus three of us. Between the soldier's pistols and my rifle, they did not survive long. The strange firearms they used were designed for short range combat so they failed to make a solid hit on us. That is not to say that they didn't hit the soldiers; just that the only wounds were minor.

  Cleaning up after the skirmish was simple enough. While Bradan buried the beings, I tended to the injured men. I was sure they could do it themselves once I wasn't around. However, there I was. It was expected of me, being a woman, to care for the men.

  The sergeant spoke first, "Let's try the explanation again on your metal companion. I can tell now that it is not a simple luggage carrier."

  "No, he isn't. I rescued him from a pair of those... things", I replied.

  "We call those things jeebees. That is short for Grey Beings of Hostile Intent."

  "Corporal! I think with all the jeebees in this area, the lady and her metal friend should have a military escort. I will stay on post here while you escort them to the base."

  The Corporal added, "You should be able to get a ride to London as we have carriages and wagons passing through all the time. The base is about a mile in this direction. It will be fun to see their expressions when we arrive."

  It was a short walk to the main gate and the Corporal was as silent as Bradan. I, on the other hand, could not stand it and was talking about anything I could think of. I wasn't sure if the Corporal would like my singing though. He appeared rather jumpy right now, as if afraid the jeebees were hiding behind every tree ready to leap out at us.

  As expected, the guard at the gate was not expecting a soldier, a woman, and a giant automaton to be strolling up. The Corporal did the explaining and I nodded in the right places. It went something like this.

  "You should see her; she points her rifle and a jeebee's head explodes. Without her there, the Sergeant and I would both be dead. At least half a dozen of them were attacking us. Luckily, her automaton can smell them coming like a trained hunting dog."

  The guard said, "You can make a full report to the duty officer. Those two are your responsibility until he makes a decision."

  I said, "Excuse me, but is there a carriage or wagon headed toward London? I need to be going faster than walking to reach Wimbledon in time for the tournament."

  He replied, "Just follow the Corporal for now and we'll get you all sorted out."

  We made too many stops. I was starting to sympathise with my father yesterday. People would stare at us and the Corporal would stop and tell them how we saved his life. To be sure, my father was a patient man to be able to put up with all my delays without complaining. I was about to scream; let everyone know how much of a hurry I was in and that we didn't have time to tell my story to the entire base one person at a time.

  We finally entered a small building. Inside was a small room with one window and no decorations. I told Bradan to wait outside as the doorway looked too small for him. A man was seated at a desk just inside the door. He obviously hadn't noticed all the commotion we were creating. I presume he was the duty officer as the Corporal repeated the story yet again for him. He listened to the tale, and then flipped through a stack of papers on his desk.

  The officer said, "We don't have anything else headed to London today. We have been restricting travel to daytime only. If it can't reach its destination while the sun is up, we don't let it go. If the jeebees are now attacking during the day, we will need to change our plans again. I will discuss this with the Colonel."

  I pleaded, "But what about us? We have already lost two travel days. If we don't find a ride soon, we will miss the tournament. We might as well turn around and go back home."

  "Going back is a bad idea. There is no telling when or where the jeebees will attack." He turned to the Corporal, "See that the young lady gets dinner and lodging for the night. I believe we have open rooms where we house visiting officers."

  The Corporal said, "I really should grab a box of cartridges and get back to my post. I don't want to leave the Sergeant there by himself for too long."

  The officer replied, "I will dispatch three men back to your post in case the jeebees make another try today."

  Outside, Bradan had been circling the building. I knew what the response would be if I asked what he was doing.

  I asked the Corporal, "Is there someplace where my automaton could get some water? I suspect he is getting low by now."

  He replied, "There is a water tower at the train station. He looks to be tall enough to get it directly from the spigot arm."

  I addressed Bradan, "Wonderful! So Bradan, get yourself some water and meet us... Where will we be?"

  "We will be at the commissary. It is over where the white smoke is."

  "So you will meet us there when you are done?"

  YES

  The Corporal said, "There won't be a large selection for dinner, but it usually tastes okay."

  I said, "To be sure, I live with my parents and siblings and we either have what himself wants or nothing."

  By the time we were seated, I was the topic of the day. My story had grown like a fish tale to where I had killed two dozen jeebees, many with my bare hands. Just when I was about to explain, Bradan walked past the windows where everyone could see him. Their attention and questions su
ddenly became all about him. I sighed and resigned myself to being known as that Irish woman who killed dozens of jeebees until their interest in him subsided.

  Being a heroine, I was offered anything they had and I tried some of everything. The Corporal was right. It all tasted good. It was nice to have a hot dinner after a few days of sandwiches on the road. When I could get a question of my own into the conversations, I asked where people were going. None of them were leaving for London anytime soon.

  • June 8

  The room they provided was wonderful. Along with the expected furniture, it had a private shower. Women are not supposed to perspire, but I do in a few places. I worked the soap into a lather and cleansed those areas first. The water was hot and I let it run down my back as I bent over to remove the dead skin from my toes and ankles. The rest of my body just needed a good rinsing. My skin had gone from its usual pale colour to a light pink by the time I finished. I was glad to wash all the dirt and soot out of my hair and see its natural cinnamon colour.

  Perhaps my mother had other reasons than vanity for me to wear a bonnet. My hair had been tangled and in need of brushing. It wouldn't matter to me once I had a house of my own with a shower in its comfort room. I shall make certain that I have plenty of hot water as well.

  I don't know if all visiting officers got big fluffy towels when they arrived or just me. I enjoyed the soft, almost ticklish, feeling as I dried myself. I got dressed and was standing in front of the duty officer shortly thereafter.

  He said, "Why don't you have some breakfast and I will have your options available when you return? Trust me that we will do our best to get you to your tournament."

  Breakfast seemed to take forever. Bradan was pacing outside the commissary, as expected, and I had a new audience eager to hear about my adventure so far. I don't remember what I ate or how much. I was thinking about continuing to the tournament. I had stumbled into a war zone and it appeared the only way out was to keep moving.