Tightly Wound

[Erica]

For such a brilliant man, he sure could be thick. It required effort for Anna to maintain her smile. The number of eyes on them was decreasing, but that wouldn’t last for long if he kept behaving so oddly. He looked apprehensive to the point of being jumpy, which seemed unusual.


However, he was obviously up to his usual digs and insults.


She ignored his comment, getting right to the point in a quieter tone than she had used earlier. “Are you feeling all right? You look a bit peckish.” As she said it, she followed his gaze to Melva, who was approaching slowly with a confident smile bordering on victorious. Anna did not like the sight of that smile. She liked less that the other woman’s approach provided no chance for Mr. White to respond in earnest without being overheard by Miss Snyder.


Melva stepped closer, feigning concern. “I did not mean to create such a scene,” she said largely to Anna. “I simply noticed Mr. White’s hat was askew and wanted to help correct it.” While the tone and body language came across as innocent and even a little hurt, no one in the immediate vicinity would be fooled. Or at least Anna hoped not.


Anna studied Melva much as a snake handler observes a viper. “Was it? I did not notice it earlier. Perhaps the stifling air in here played tricks with your eyes.”


Melva shook her head patient. “Not with my eyes, I’m afraid.” She looked to Mr. White. “But then, you two have been working so hard on the ... project.” The last word came out like a whisper. “Perhaps it is causing a strain.”

 

[Chordling]

The scenario where he was to be around both woman never crossed his mind until Melva had finally approached them. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea either.


He at least vividly remembered the last few words that he spoke to Ms. Stroud about the library affair. Nothing of it at the music hall or the after party. But whether Ms. Stroud would remember the same, Robert wasn't confident. Slowly he looked up to her, trying to hint Anna away from the subject.


"Some water, sir?" a servant suddenly intruded, and stood by Mr. White. Robert curiously glanced down to the servant, wondering what had made them think now was the proper moment to offer him a glass of water. It had only been two small glasses, and nothing stronger than champagne. He wasn't that inebriated, was he?


"No," was all Robert managed to say, and dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand. There was still a slight lean in Mr. White's posture, which concerned several people.


"Nonsense!" Melva exclaimed. "Servant, bring back this man some water," she demanded, and pushed her way to his side. "Mr. White, I am sorry to admit, but you're going to have to learn to be less stubborn. First your hat, and now your drinking, look at yourself."





Robert would have laughed at Melva's attempt to shame him if he had his proper wits about him, instead his eyes rolled in their usual way. Another circulating servant passed by, holding the same tray of alcohol. Mr. White noted the servant, and almost thought it would be best to just give up. His glance immediately turned away, fearing it would only add to the rumor on his supposed drinking habits.


"See, some water," Melva smiled, and offered him the glass. Robert could only give Ms. Synder a pathetic look, and tried to dismiss her with a wave of his hand.

 

[Erica]

Anna stood appalled at Melva's words. She dared speak of the Library in public? It was strictly against Mr. Millberry's rules. Who did this woman think she was?


Apparently, Miss Snyder not only thought she was above following the Chairman's orders, but she also believed everyone else to be an idiot. Granted, under normal circumstances, people would have avoided Mr. White at all costs. Honestly, Anna remained uncertain why she was coming to his aid now, except out of a sense of fairness. She had suspected Miss Snyder to be up to no good when she saw the other woman cornering Robert. But this? The "water" she was offering had bubbles in it, for goodness' sake! And Anna was standing right there.


Before Mr. White could take the proffered glass, she snatched it from Melva's hand. With her other hand, she grabbed the servant's arm. "Did she pay you to offer Mr. White champagne in the form of 'water'?" She asked, her eyes on Melva. When the man hesitated, Anna fixed him with a glare that made him cower.


"No... not... specifically, Madame," the servant stammered.


Melva smirked, both at the man's answer and at the realization that Anna had brushed her glove. But Anna was not done yet. She looked at the servant. "Did she offer you other ... compensation... then?"


The servant flushed red, and Anna heard a gasp from someone nearby who had been listening. Suddenly the room grew very quiet as whispers flew like startled geese. Attention had turned to them.


"You are being ridiculous, Ms. Stroud!" Melva said, thrusting her chin upward. "I think you both have had too much to drink tonight."


In fact, Anna had not had much, but she felt heat spreading across her chest as if she had. She glared at Melva, opening her mouth to speak but pausing as she saw Mr. Millberry approaching.


"I say! What is going on here, ladies? Mr. White?" He glanced at Anna's hand, still on the arm of his servant, and frowned. Then he performed a double-take when looking at Robert, noticing the other man's quickly deteriorating state. "Mr. White! Are you ill?"

 

[Chordling]

Mr. White tried to keep up with the conversation between the two women, but his efforts failed him. It could have been from the champagne. It could have been from Ms. Synder's sneaky trick. Or it could simply be the fact that they were woman, and he never really understood them.


He distinctively heard Mr. Millberry's voice, and saw his large figure approach the scene. "No, of course not," he said the best he could. "In fact I was just about to leave." Faltering, he lifted himself with the aid of his cane, then noticed something father abnormal.


"Are you sure, you don't seem to well, Mr White," Mr. Millberry said with concern.


His concern, however, went ignored for a brief moment. A white smudge had made its way onto the wooden cane. Curious, Mr. White wiped at the powder like substance with the tip of his fingers, and rubbed it between his thumb.


"Mr. White, is something wrong?" Mr. Millberry spoke, trying to catch the senators attention. Again, Mr. White ignored the Chairman, and thought back to earlier that evening, when Ms. Synder first approached him.


When he finally came to a conclusion, he sent a glare towards Melva. Just as he was about to speak, the effects of the extra powder he had rubbed on his fingers hit him, and he leaned onto his cane.


"By gods, Mr. White you must be drunk out of your mind!"

 

[Erica]

Anna felt her senses dulling around the edges. Her reaction to Mr. Millberry’s arrival felt slower than it should be, and her vision took a moment to focus on him after she turned too quickly. Keeping a tight grip on the servant (partly to keep him from fleeing and partly for balance), she blinked rapidly as Mr. White and Mr. Millberry spoke.


She could only seem to focus on one thing at a time, and for a brief moment, the substance being rubbed between Mr. White’s fingers held her attention entirely. When he looked at Miss Snyder, Anna did as well, and felt her head complain at the motion; not enough to make her stagger like Mr. White, but enough to be clearly felt.


When Mr. Millberry declared Mr. White drunk, Anna interjected a little too loudly, “On the contrary, Mr. Millberry!” She took a breath and cleared her throat before continuing at a more reasonable volume, “He is not drunk, but it is meant to seem so.” She pulled on the servant’s arm. “I suggest you question your man here. He was offering Mr. White champagne, but calling it water.... and Miss Snyder went along with the ruse.” Letting go of the man’s arm, she stepped rapidly closer to Miss Snyder.


Melva attempted to back away, but Anna grabbed her by the wrists. It seemed brilliant, at the moment, to attempt to demonstrate the powder’s effects on Miss Snyder. Only she didn’t plan on Miss Snyder resisting. They ended up wrestling in a most undignified manner for a few seconds, with the servant and Mr. Millberry eventually attempting to jump in. But Anna stopped abruptly when she managed to brush Miss Snyder’s hand against her cheek. “Ha!” she declared, before stepping back.


On Melva’s cheek, a smudge of white powder was clearly evident. The woman attempted to hastily rub it away, but the damage was done.

 

[Chordling]

Mr. Millberry couldn't believe what was happening. The ends of his mustache wiggled, and his face began to turn a bright red. "Just.... no body move, or drink, or eat or touch anything!" Senators from around the room looked at Mr. Millberry, some confused, others rather frightened. Krissy peaked her head from behind the shoulder of a tall man, curious as to what was going on.


A sudden whelp came from Ms. Synder as the effects from her own concoction started their course. Her gloved hands daintily flapped in front of her face as tears started to pour from her eyes. "You.... you...." she tried to insult as she pointed to Ms. Stroud, but the words she tried to form on her mouth wouldn't come.


The chairman pulled a Robert, and rolled his eyes. "I cannot believe what is happening right now," he said in a state of rage. "I want all of you out!" he suddenly demanded. The other senators who had nothing to do with the situation were confused, and some even protested. "Out!" With no further exchanges, the guests started to leave.


Slowly, Mr. White stood himself up straight, and began to saunter his way towards the door. Before he could make any significant distance, Ms. Synder had stopped him.


"You.... will look... at me.... someday," she spoke as she tried to make sense of her own words. In all honestly, Robert wasn't entirely sure what the blond woman had meant, and the cloud of confusion from the white powder only made things worse. He glared at her before saying his final words for the night.


"Very funny."

 

[Erica]

Anna flinched as Mr. Millberry went on a tirade. She caught a glimpse of Krissy and felt a pang of guilt - or started to, until Miss Snyder starting pointing at her. Anna might have swatted the other woman’s finger away if it weren’t laced with the powder. She already felt woozy: the last thing she needed was another dose of whatever the younger woman had concocted. (And really? Who drugs people to get their way? The younger generation had no sense whatsoever of propriety or dedication to hard work. If you want to sway people to your cause, you convince them with words and possibly political favors, but not by drugging them!)


Then Mr. Millberry was dismissing everyone. No. Not dismissing. He was kicking everyone out! Anna felt heat invade her cheeks at that development, but it was almost worth it to see Miss Snyder melting down in front of Mr. White. Anna blinked. Was this all to get him to notice her? Anna could understand wanting to discredit him politically, but had Melva actually thought Robert White would be swayed by feminine charms?


Anna snorted in humor at the thought and then quickly covered her mouth in embarrassment. Luckily, few people seemed to notice: they were too busy murmuring as they left. This party would be talked about for years to come. Anna tried not to think about that too much. Instead, she looked at Krissy. “You played divinely, my dear.”


There. That should help.


She turned to Mr. Millberry. “There are no words, Sir. I have no idea why Miss Snyder chose tonight to attempt such an underhanded --”


The Chairman was still red in the face. “Get. Out!”


Anna nodded. “Yes, Sir.” She turned to Mr. White, speaking quietly as she urged him to the door. “I do not believe either of us should be walking alone. May I offer you a ride?”

 

[Chordling]

"Ms. Stroud," Robert addressed. "I hate to stress this point to you, but I have had quite the day." His words were slow, but his wit was slowly coming back to him. "Firstly, I was saddened to hear that your bill had been passed." Whether his phrase would be categorized under the forbidden subject, he honestly didn't care anymore. "Secondly," Robert had to pause for a moment, the powder's affect still in play. "I was kindly invited by our Chairman to the music recital. Thirdly, I am poisoned by a pesky blond woman at the evening party." Mr. Millberry's face warped in shock at Robert's words, but he was unable to say anything as Mr. White continued. "Offer you may, but I am in no mood...." His pause this time was longer, and he pressed the tips of his fingers along his temples. A heavy breath was released, "But I am in no mood for anymore feminine company." His eyes turned up to look at Ms. Stroud, hoping he had made his point.


Other senators who passed by them whispered among each other. The cane underneath Mr. White looked less elegant and contemptuous as he leaned slightly compared to his natural stance. While the effects of the powder had lightened, they were still rather potent. The champagne probably did not help the man's case, though it wasn't like he drank much anyway.

 

[Erica]

Anna remained uncertain why she was attempting to be nice to Mr. White. Perhaps she felt for him, since Miss Snyder had essentially attempted major assassination attempt on his character. Maybe she realized she needed his good favor (if there were such a thing) to be successful at the Library. Maybe she was just a little woozy from the powder herself and her natural inclination to make everyone comfortable had kicked in.


Whatever the cause, it was clearly a mistake. True to his caustic nature, he essentially scolded her for offering assistance while failing to acknowledge the service she had just done him with Miss Snyder. As he continued to speak, her jaw clenched and her eyebrows twitched upward. When he finished, she looked at him, opening her mouth to speak.


And said nothing. What could she say that would possibly make this man anything other than the stubborn, abrasive fool he was? She might as well shout into the wind. She closed her mouth, then opened it again, then shut it again. (The effects of the powder did not help her ability to think in this regard.)


Then, finally, she shook her head. “I will not trouble you with my company any longer, Mr. White. But I will remind you, since you seem to have lost your manners along with your sobriety in Miss Snyder’s plot, that the poisoning would have gone far, far worse for you if I had not noted her odd behavior and intervened.” She smoothed out her skirt, glancing briefly at one of the passersby and nodding to them even as they whispered. She held up a hand to stay any response on Mr. White’s part. “But no matter. I should know better by now. I’ll expect you at the Library mid-morning tomorrow. Good evening.”


Her jaw twitched only once more, and - assuming he did not stop her - she was set on having Andrei return her home. Then perhaps a warm bath before bed. Yes, that sounded divine, and perhaps would melt away some of the anger she felt at her own stupidity for expecting a porcupine to soften his quills.

 

[Chordling]

Chapter IV

Something about Ms. Stroud's words kicked Mr. White in the gut. Was it regret? Whatever the feeling was, he quickly pushed it away as he watched her leave Mr. Millberry's. No further words had been exchanged between the two senators that evening, which Mr. White was thankful for. This evening would be one of many that he would try to forget, for they were not worth remembering. Slowly, Robert exited the chairman's home, and began to make his way down the street again.


By the time he had passed the first block, just after the senate building, most of the powder's effects had worn off. That evening's events had only made his view on social gatherings worse. There were many reason's why Robert disliked them, white powder being the new addition to the long list. Such a list would be impossible to recite or simplify. It would take till the end of time for Robert to complete just a small fraction of it. He scowled at himself as he made his way home, trying to forget about the after party and Ms. Synder's deceitfulness. How he hated that woman. In fact, he hated Melva so much to the point where it made Ms. Stroud look good. Of course, a solitary state was always the best alternative in his mind, given any situation.

​

The walk home had been quiet, just as Robert liked it, but that odd feeling had come back again, and lingered into the morning. It bothered him that he couldn't quite figure out what it had been about Ms. Stroud's words the previous evening that set him off. He shook it away again as he combed his hair back before the mirror. Today's outfit was not quite as elegant and formal as it had been yesterday. Senate would not take place for a while, not until the two senators discovered something worth discussing at least, so it wasn't necessary to dress in such a high fashion. He wore a simple brown vest with matching pants and leather shoes. His cane, however, was still beside him.


Just before mid morning, he had traveled back to the library on foot, just as Anna had confirmed. He hoped he would be able to convince Anna that there was no need to involve other "professionals" into the library affair, and was sure she would try to do the opposite. As he entered the old building, he looked around to see if Ms. Stroud had all ready arrived.

 

[Erica]

The bath had done wonders for her mood, but Anna’s mind had churned as she lay in bed, waiting for sleep to claim her. When it finally did, she slept fitfully. In the morning, she took her time, attempting to shake off the fatigue continuing to trail her. Perhaps as a reflection of her mood, she opted for more somber colors today, selecting a simple dress in a deep burgundy with cream colored accents. She went without a hat today, but invested an hour arranging her hair. As was often the case, coaxing her coarse, dark hair into the latest fashions was an exercise in frustration, but it also supplied a sense of accomplishment and even victory upon its completion. She finished off her ensemble with brown boots and a cameo necklace given to her by her mother.


At breakfast, Andrei informed her he had sent a message to his sister and then suggested he drop her off early at the library so that he might work on the keys. Pushing aside her weariness, she accepted the wisdom of his approach.


Thus she arrived at the library well in advance of Mr. White. Knowing that he would not arrive for some time, she decided to venture into the room and further explore Synge’s notes. Although she hesitated to proceed without Mr. White, it would be helpful to their discussion about the required expertise to provide an update to the King. In short order, she recognized her limited mechanical knowledge was not up to the task. The diagrams were beautiful in their complexity, but it seemed - at least to her mind - that the diagrams were randomly ordered. Or perhaps they were connected in some way that eluded her understanding. She looked through the books on the shelf, hoping for written notes or a journal explaining his train of thought. Unfortunately, all that she found was a book of very bad poetry and more complex diagrams, drawn like children sketch doodles.


She returned to the desk with the larger diagrams, studying the one that hinted at a large machine and reminded her vaguely of a printing press. Try as she might, she could not determine what it was meant to produce, however. It certainly did not look like any printing press she had ever seen, although some of the diagrams in the stacks resembled plates that might press together. She had just resolved to go out into the main library and research printing presses when she heard the familiar tapping of a cane upon the wood floors.


A flash of anger at Mr. White’s lack of gratitude the night before washed over her, hot and unexpected. She took a slow breath to help abolish it. Only a trace lingered as she stepped out of the hidden room and nodded to him perfunctorily. “Good morning, Mr. White.” Then her attention returned to the contents of the room as she spoke, walking slowly through the secret space as she talked. “I spent some time reviewing the materials inside. Perhaps your understanding will exceed mine, but I am at a point where I must recommend we enlist the aid of others with greater expertise. The sheer volume of diagrams here requires a specialist's eye. The Blackcastle Engineers are the obvious choice. Andrei expects to have my request fulfilled within a day or so, but since a single miniature automaton will not provide a full answer, and as a full answer is what we have promised the King, I feel the Engineers are the obvious choice. Do you agree?”

 

[Chordling]

It wasn't a bad idea, he had to admit to himself. Robert couldn't even convince himself otherwise. The Blackcastle Engineers were meant to serve the King, and even if their force had been completely destroyed, the King would always be able to find new men. Robert knew of several people who would die to serve the King in such a manner. He let out a deep sigh as he looked over the small, secluded room before speaking.


"I cannot think of anyway to disagree with you, Ms. Stroud, so I suppose I don't really have a choice but to agree. I must add, however, that the Blackcastle Engineers and this mechanic of yours will be the only additions to our, how you put it, 'endeavor'." He slowly walked over to the book they had examined the day before, and flipped through it once more to see if any fraction of the deceased inventor's notes would become clear. His face drew a blank expression when he tried to decipher some of the notes on the fragile piece of paper, and still couldn't make any sense of them.


"When precisely will your mechanic have the key to the automaton?" he suddenly asked, and closed the cover to the manual. It was rather odd. Synge left everything about the machine, nuts and bolts, yet in every book Mr. White had glanced over, the actual function of the machine was absent. Was it on purpose? Synge must have known that his work was in danger, and maybe decided that he would leave the real purpose of the machine out after some time had passed. The thought frightened Mr. White. If this had only been a small fraction of the inventor's work, would they be responsible to hunt down whatever was left?

 

[Erica]

“I cannot think of anyway to disagree with you, Ms. Stroud...”


Anna realized she had been bracing herself for an argument when those unexpected words came from Mr. White. They stunned her into stillness. She watched him quietly as he perused the book, wondering if he was still feeling odd from the night before. He must have been.


The way of he spoke of “her mechanic” and the Blackcastle Engineers in one breath disturbed her. She still wanted to protect Andrei, but could she? Would Mr. White help her conceal his involvement if needed? It was highly unlikely. As she mulled over this thought, he asked about the key. She shrugged. “Andrei is working on it now,” she said, emphasizing his name as if it would somehow humanize him to Mr. White and perhaps stop this man from throwing her friend’s life away. “He did not give a precise time, but implied it would be sometime tomorrow, barring unforeseen challenges.”


Shifting her feet, she changed the topic as well. “I suggest we summon the same Engineers who have already reviewed the materials here. Unless there is an issue in knowledge, containing the number of people who see the contents of this room is advisable until we know more.” Ann looked at the book, then back to him. “It reminds me of a printing press, although I cannot fathom why. It seems ... disjointed. Or perhaps incomplete? It hints at something large, but I cannot discern its purpose. Perhaps the Engineers will discern immediately what I am missing, but I do wish we knew if these,” she motioned to the toy automaton and spider, “were toys or ... something more sinister.” The feeling that they were the latter chilled her deeply, in part because it might mean dire consequences for both her and Andrei - and even Mr. White here.

 

[Chordling]

Mr. White turned a cocked head towards Anna. He wasn't really sure if he could fathom why it had resembled a printing press either. Then his glanced faced towards the automatons when she motioned to them as she spoke. The gaze lingered for a while as she thought. "Perhaps, their purpose is more obvious than we think," his words dragged as he thought out loud. "I wonder," he added to his thoughts, and continued to stare at the small machines upon the little desk in the dusty chamber.


He had completely ignored Anna's statement about the Black Engineers, but he felt like his did not need to justify her reasoning more. It was sound, and it seemed that Robert had nothing more to say about them. Carefully he began to look around for another manual, one that still seemed to be intact, then spotted one and pulled it from its place on the shelf. His thumbs began to flip through the pages at a fairly rapid pace until something caught his eye, and he stopped. With just a bit of strain he was able to match the book's documents to the tiny toy like figure sitting on the desk. The longer he looked between the book and automaton, the more convinced he was that his new assumptions about Mr. Synge's work were correct.


"What precisely is your mechanic doing with the drawing? How many keys does he plan to produce? Will he be creating more than one size?" Robert was beginning to remind himself of the new intern, but he knew these questions would be important to them later. He still held the book out in front of him, the pages laid flat on top of each other. Synge's notes still didn't make any sense to Robert in the slightest, but he was at least able to discern the dimensions of what the actual automaton was supposed to be. His sense of proportions wasn't terrible, and he had a rather odd feeling they might be looking for a larger project than they had expected.

 

[Erica]

Anna did not believe the miniature figures were designed to be toys. Or, if they were, that was not the reason Queen Valentina had decreed that Synge and all his work be destroyed. (She might think the monarchy a poor method of governance, but she did not think the queen had been that mad or ruthless.) Still, she avoided jumping to conclusions - at least not aloud. Mr. White would likely cling to any assumption she might make, treating it as if she claimed it to be was fact.


Even unvoiced, they shared the same thought, however. He moved to another book, flipping through it. Anna waited as patiently as she could for him to share his thoughts afterwards, but he did not. Instead, he voiced a series of rather leading questions. “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “I asked him to create a set of varying sizes.” Stepping to his side, she looked at the diagrams, to the miniature models, then back up to Mr. White. “I keep returning to one question: what would make Queen Valentina believe his work dangerous? Toys represent no danger, unless they were designed to hurt children.” She glanced at the book. “But a larger automaton. We have those now, although the first ones were created over a generation after his death and we still do not have them in great numbers...”


She trailed off, her mind finally assembling the clues she had been mulling over since the day before. As they clicked into place, her spine straightened as she looked back to Mr. White, wondering if he had reached the same conclusion she had.

 

[Chordling]

He could feel the realization wash over Ms. Stroud as she stood beside him. It was obvious. These automatons were in fact toys, merely to demonstrate what the real artifact actually was. "Queen Valentina was a smart woman," Robert finally spoke. "She saw Mr. Synge's work as a threat to the nation, and before any of this could continue," he gestured slightly to the innocent little figures in the room, "she made sure it came to an end."





Something else bothered Mr. White. Gently, he tapped his fingers along the spine of the book that was cradled in his hands as he mulled over another question. While Queen Valentina had been a fair woman, she had also been known to be unmerciful. Robert made the assumption that Synge and his work had been long exiled after the Queen sought to destroy his new inventions. Synge couldn't have possibly sealed this section of the library in time to salvage the very materials Mr. White and Ms. Stroud had stood before, so who did?


He made this note to himself, then turned his head to face Anna before speaking again, "They might as well be considered so." He referred to the idea of the automatons being simple toys. "Just simple little models." His previous thoughts pestered him, and prevented the senator from adding anymore to the subject.

 

[Erica]

Anna’s mind rebelled against the idea that the contents in the library were truly that dangerous. If automatons had been invented after Synge’s death, did that make his work no longer hazardous or relevant? But if she were correct, if there were a way to produce a large number of automatons at once, what would that mean? Now they were used primarily for dangerous work in the mines and for tasks requiring great strength. Although there was much debate over whether taking jobs, even dangerous ones, away from the workers had improved their lives, there was no argument about the benefit of the automatons overall. Farmers who owned them along with other advanced machinery could produce more food at lower cost and with fewer injuries to their slaves and workers.


What would it mean to have a larger number of them? What other applications for the automatons had been dismissed because of the cost of producing just one? Lost in her own thoughts, she almost missed that Mr. White was repeating the obvious. Almost.


She turned to him, putting aside her thoughts for the moment. “Mr. White? In all the years we have faced each other in the Senate, I have never known you to state - nevermind repeat - the obvious. Either you are still ill from last night, or another thought has distracted you to the point of acting against your own nature.”


Remembering she was angry at him and he was unlikely to share with her even if they were on good terms, she changed her tone slightly, returning to their more formal interactions. “Will you share with me what has occupied you so?”

 

[Chordling]

Yes, out of all the people in the world, Anna would know him best. Keep you friends close, and your enemies closer they always said. Friends were few with Mr. White. Even senators from his own opinion steered clear of him. Indeed, another thought had been distracting him. Thank goodness. Had he still been affected by the powder, he would never have arrived in the library. Probably would never have the left the bed either.


"Yes, and in all these years I would never have expected someone like you, Ms. Stroud, to be so concerned over what is happening in my head," he spoke with eye rolling and sarcasm, then continued with a more serious attitude. "How is it that we are standing here, right now, before the very work of a mechanic; who had been banished from the country before his revolutionary work could even take off? Why is it, that every single piece of his work was sought out by Queen Valentina, and yet, here we are centuries later." His voice trailed off as he thought some more, then he began to think about Andrei.


"Your mechanic. What does he think of Mr. Synge?"

 

[Erica]

Anna took his sarcasm in stride, although it was surprising to hear him speak in any way that might be interpreted as humorous. Luckily, she could verify he was still himself: after all, it still carried a tone of condescension to it. His explanation of his thoughts, however, stopped her in her tracks. Of course, it had occurred to her before, but she had (perhaps subconsciously?) not focused on it. For a full report to the King, they would ideally include how and why this room and all its contents survived the purge all those years ago.


Cecilia Volos and their prior conversations came to mind. Anna had suspected Andrei’s sister might know more, given the way the woman had talked about suppression of progressive ideas in engineering. As if reading her mind, Mr. White asked about Andrei’s opinion on Synge.


Anna frowned and addressed his earlier statement first. “Beheaded,” she corrected. After a beat, she expanded her thought. “Elijah Willoughby Synge was not banished. He was beheaded after refusing to discontinue his work under the orders of Queen Valentina.” Although she did not give it voice, her belief that the man would have ended up dead even if he had agreed to the queen’s demands tinged her tone.


“As for Andrei, we have not discussed his opinions on Synge or his work. He has guessed we are working on the discovery at the Library, but that is not a difficult feat. He has never mentioned Synge to me, although we have on occasion discussed his love of engineering in general and puzzles in particular.” She paused. “Why do you ask?” Playing dumb was not one of her strengths or typical tactics, but she had made a promise to Andrei. Until she spoke with Cecilia and drew her own conclusions about the girl's possible involvement with anyone still enamored of Synge's work, she would not voice her unfounded suspicions.

 

[Chordling]

Beheaded, exiled, it was all the same really to Robert. One could assume the exiled were killed, or died from natural causes. People situated in Ashington would appreciate their lives more if they took a single glance of the world outside of Aneora.


"Perhaps your friend can supply us with further information about Synge's work," Mr. White answered. "He seems to be very passionate man, surely he must have something to say about Elijah's work. Next time you speak with him, ask. Over a cup of tea, or perhaps during a lovely flight in the morning. Either way you prosecute it, I don't really care. I am sure it won't do him any further harm."





Gently, Mr. White set the book he had still been holding back onto the shelf. A small cloud of dust flew into the air as he pressed upon the binding to slide manual back. "Some follow up questions would suffice, too," he added, then began to make an exit into the main section of the library.

 

[Erica]

Anna looked at him quizzically. How on earth would Andrei have further information on Synge’s work, when it was all destroyed? She rolled her eyes as he exited to the main library. Really, ordering her about as if she worked for him! It was ludicrous, and she would not consider it for a moment longer (except, perhaps, to dwell on how rude and preposterous it was).


No longer feeling the need to research printing presses, and fearful of upsetting their delicate truce by giving him a piece of her mind about his suggestions on how to “prosecute” Andrei, she left the library for home. Plenty of work awaited her, including sending the request for the Blackcastle Engineers.

~ * ^ * ~

​

That afternoon, Anna sat in her gardens at a small table set with tea and biscuits. The fresh air and greenery went a long way toward improving her mood. She had returned home to find an acceptance from Cecilia Volos for afternoon tea. The prospect of a pleasant conversation was refreshing, despite the fact that she would need to be careful in her approach to the topic of Synge and his work.


And why, precisely, did she suspect that Cecilia might know something about Synge’s work, when Andrei would not? Was she blind to her friend’s faults? Perhaps. Then again, perhaps she was wrong about Cecilia as well.


Soon a woman in hear early twenties arrived in a powder blue shirt and brown trousers tucked into riding boots. Her brown hair was laced into two braids, atop which she wore a broad-brimmed straw hat decorated with a simple ribbon to match her shirt. Across her chest, she wore a leather satchel, which she kept a hand on as she walked into the gardens. Anna stood to greet her.


“Ms. Stroud. I don’t believe I have seen your gardens during the day. They are exquisite.” The younger woman offered.


Anna smiled broadly. “You are too kind, Miss Volos, and please, call me Anna. Sit with me?”


Cecilia nodded and claimed a seat, positioning her satchel as she did so. “All right, Anna, but only if you call me Cecilia. I always feel like I have done something wrong when people address me as ‘Miss Volos’.” She grinned and leaned forward. “Perhaps because I usually have.” While she had been talking, Anna had poured them both tea, which Cecilia now took with a nod of thanks. “My brother said you wanted to discuss something with me. I will admit this has me curious...”


Anna smiled. “Yes, well. It has me curious as well. I hope you will forgive my ulterior motive. I should have invited you long before now.” Cecilia waved a hand to dismiss the apology, and Anna thanked her with a smile before continuing. “I remembered a necklace you wore at a party once. It was shaped like a key? And a most unusual one at that.”


Cecilia took a slow sip of her tea before setting it down and leaning back in her chair. The reaction reminded Anna vividly of Andrei earlier. “I know the one.” She paused, looking over Anna with open curiosity and perhaps a bit of suspicion. Anna waited patiently for her to reach whatever conclusion she would. Finally, Cecilia added, “It was a gift. From my uncle.”


Anna’s eyebrows lifted briefly before she took a sip herself. “I see.” Now sure she was onto something, she changed tactics and redirected the conversation. “It always struck me as exquisitely unique. My compliments. But... I am sure Andrei told you I wanted to talk to you about the history of mechanics. You and your fiancé are experts, are you not?”


Cecilia, who had weathered the comments about the necklace without flinching, shrugged. “It is a passion, yes. Does this have to do with the discovery at the Library?”


Anna nodded. “Although I should not say so, I will not insult your intelligence. It does, but I can say little else. What I wanted to know is: what can you tell me about Elijah Synge?”


The glint of curiosity that visited Cecilia’s grey eyes told Anna she was onto something.

 

[Chordling]

Robert payed no further attention to the female senator as she walked out of the building. He assumed he would listen to his every word and do as she's told, like a proper lady would do. The moment she stepped foot in the outside world, the library suddenly felt incredibly vacant, and lonely. Robert liked this feeling.


In the next few hours, he spent his time skimming over history text describing the early history of technology. Other unrecognizable mechanics were mentioned, the ones preceding Synge. With no other place to be that day, he allowed himself to relax in one of the wooden chairs, and placed his cane just beside him while he flipped through the books. What had disappointed him was that much of the information contained within the books were piratically the same, just a different other with different words. When his disappointment had reached its limit, he set the last book aside and stood from his seat to leave the library.

~~~




​

The majority of Mr. White's afternoon had been spent alone back home. It wasn't until the door bell chimed when the senator's solitary had ended. Annoyed yet curious at the same time, he briskly walked from the living room to the front door, then turned its golden door knob.


"Oh, Mr. White I am so glad to have caught you!" a painfully familiar, high pitch voice greeted. Though the expression Mr. White held was unreadable and flat, deep inside his eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the floor in horror. "I was afraid that you might be in the library with Anna, but I am glad to say my assumptions were wrong," the woman chimed, and sent a toothy grin his way.


"What in the King's name are you doing here?" Robert gravely asked, still trying to maintain his blank visage.


"Oh, yes what was it that I came for again," she pretended to ponder, ignoring Robert's arrogance. "Yes, that's it!" she let out a small cough before continuing. "I simply wanted to apologize for my actions the other night. It was wrong of me to play such a nasty trick on you. I should have known it would take more to make you finally understand what a wonderful person I truly am." She looked up at him with a gentle smile and lightly nodded her head. "Won't you forgive me, Mr. White?"


There would never be a moment in history where Mr. White would ever forgive Melva for her deceitful actions. He wasn't quite sure how to react, however, and simply glanced down at her with a serious look. There was a pause, and when that pause had almost reached the point of awkwardness, Melva spoke again.


"Oh, Mr. White, won't you please let me in? I have yet to see what a marvelous place you have," she cheered eagerly, and tried to push past the tall man.


"As do all of the people in Aneora, you are no exception," he stated, but it went unnoticed, and soon enough Melva found herself in the grand entrance of Robert's might abode.


"Oh my!" Melva gasped, amazed by her new surroundings. "Mr. White, I am serious. How can it be possible that none of the senate parties have ever been in here, in this very living room. The decorating is simply divine!"





Mr. White finally caught up to Melva, and put a tight grip around her small arm to drag her out of his house.


"Mr. White!" she squeaked, and quickly pulled her arm away from his hand. "I should say," she suddenly grimaced. "Shouldn't you know better not to touch a woman like that. Dear me," her face stretched out into a frightened look, "I surely hope this isn't the way you are treating Ms. Stroud, are you?"

 

[Erica]

By that evening, Anna had much to think about. Cecilia had not directly admitted to the existence of a society dedicated to preserving or even continuing Synge’s work. However, she had admitted enough to hint at it, and that her extended family was involved. Anna knew that had not been an error on Cecilia’s part: the young woman was too bright to accidentally slip in conversation about such things, and her gaze had been far too knowing during parts of the conversation. Andrei’s sister trusted Anna, probably at Andrei’s recommendation. This, in turn, reinforced Anna’s commitment to protect Cecilia as best she could. So she would not mention Cecilia or what she learned to Mr. White unless absolutely necessary. Hopefully that would not require her to lie directly, but if it did, she would accept that consequence.


Three Blackcastle Engineers had arrived at the library almost immediately after Anna had sent word for their assistance, leading her to suspect they had been awaiting the summons. They took a day to investigate, and now, two days after her meeting with Cecilia, they promised a preliminary report of their findings in the afternoon.


This morning the Senate had minor business to attend to: issues about road maintenance and a brief foray into the long-standing debate about controlling air traffic. (At which point, Anna cited the near miss she had the day before, although she left out Mr. White’s presence on the ship: there were enough rumors about what happened at the reception for Krissy Millberry’s recital, and she had no intention of adding any fuel to them.) Now she headed to a private room on the west side of the Senate building. As she walked, her skirts swished softly, providing subtle counterpoint to the tattoo of her boots upon the wood floors.


“Ms. Stroud!”


Anna turned around to see who was calling for her. It was the young intern that seemed to hover beside either Mr. Millberry or Mr. White, always sporting a curious expression. Ah, to be young again. Reluctantly, she paused in her steps and watched as the young man hurried to catch up with her. Coming face-to-face with him for the first time, she was struck by the bright blue of his eyes. “Yes? Mr. Leek, is it?”


Edward closed the distance between them, then paused to catch his breath, his gloved hand against his chest as he addressed her with ragged breath. “Yes! How kind of you... to have... made note of me,... Madame.” He continued to pant, and did not seem ready to continue any time soon.


Suppressing her annoyance, Anna donned a patient smile. “I make a point to know everyone who frequents the Senate floor, Mr. Leek.” She waited a moment more, but when he did not continue, she pressed her hands together and prodded, “Is there a matter requiring my attention?”


Edward nodded and took a deep breath. “There are three,” he paused to take another deep breath, then spoke more quietly, “Blackcastle Engineers here for you and Mr. White.” Anna frowned; that was not news. But Edward continued with clear curiosity, “Is this about the discovery at the Library?”


Anna’s frown deepened as she scowled at the intern. “I am aware of the Engineers and I cannot discuss it with you, Mr. Leek.” She shook her head. “Forgive me for being harsh, Sir, but as an intern, I assume you are here to learn process and protocol. If you cannot grasp Mr. Millberry’s very straightforward instructions on the topic you just broached, then I doubt you are up to the task.”


The intern’s eyes briefly widened before he bowed his head slightly. “Yes, Ms. Stroud,” he said, voice contrite and only slightly annoyed.


Anna nodded, “Now, if there is nothing else...” When the intern shook his head nearly imperceptibly, she turned on her heel and resumed her pace down the hall.


Edward stood for a full minute, looking shamed and slightly lost as he watched her depart. His eyes followed her as she entered the private chamber where she would be meeting with Mr. White and the Engineers.

 

[Chordling]

Painfully, Mr. White's peaceful afternoon ticked away. A moment longer with that woman and he would have wanted to pull the pistol from his bedroom side table on himself. Before he had to forcefully remove her from his home, Melva attempted made many promiscuous suggestions towards Mr. White, something he never thought he would have to deal with after his studying days. She had also made suggestions about Anna, as if there was something more between the two head senators. As much as he wanted to explain to the blond woman that he had no attraction towards Ms. Stroud, there was no use in trying. Her high pitched voice ended up interrupting any phrase Mr. White attempted to say.


Two days from the horrid event in his own home had passed. Mr. White decided it was time to give his growing beard a shave before he met with Anna and the Blackcastle Engineers for the preliminary report. He also thought it might be clever to look a little more presentable, especially after the events at the Chairman's after party. A fresh new start, though Robert had to admit, he never liked the way he looked without a slight shade of facial hair. As he stood before the mirror in his bathroom, he slowly passed the small, metal razor over his skin to take away the layer of dark hair from his face. He continued to remove the rest of his facial hair, splashed his face with water, patted his skin dry, then glanced at himself in the mirror.


"Bloody hell," he muttered to himself. Seeing himself without the light shade always shocked him. It was as if he turned the clock back five years. He suddenly remembered about the Senate meeting, then quickly dressed himself formally and left his house; cane in hand, watch in pocket.


"Good morning, Mr. White," the Chairman greeted when he spotted Robert walk through the Senate building. Mr. White looked upon Mr. Millberry, and it seemed as the large man had put aside his anger from the previous events. "You are needed in the West Wing."


"Of course, Mr. Millberry," Robert replied before walking towards the wing.


"Oh, and by the way," Mr. Millberry added before Robert had disappeared completely. "You look rather ravishing with a shave. Reminds me of a younger Robert." The Chairman sent Robert a small wink.


Mr. White simply rolled his eyes, then continued on his way. He wasn't sure if the Chairman was being serious or just arrogant. That morning's Senate meeting had gone too well for Robert's taste. Perhaps Mr. Millberry was simply still plotting out their punishment from the after party events. It wasn't like him to simply toss those kind of things aside.


As he was about to near the private room, he spotted the intern, Edward, speaking with Ms. Stroud. His eyebrows raised in curiosity, but then their conversation had ended, and Anna began to walk away.


"Oh, Mr. White!" the intern called from down the hall. Mr. White let out a sigh, and looked past Edward. Suddenly, the young man began to briskly make his way towards the Senator. "You are about to speak with the Blackcastle Engineers, aren't you?"


"Indeed," Mr. White simply replied.


"They are waiting for you in there, and I was just speaking with Ms. Stroud. A lovely woman isn't she?" he gently smiled and looked up at Mr. White.


"I could disagree."





The intern paused for a moment, then opened his mouth to ask another question, "About the Engineers..... or Ms. Stroud...... ?"


"What do you think?" Robert barked, then decided it was best to waste no more time with the young man, and pushed his way past him.


Sure enough, there they had been, waiting for him to come. He looked around the room briefly, one, two, three Blackcastle Engineers and the "lovely" Anna Stroud. He took the only available seat, between Ms. Stroud and an Engineer, then removed the gloves he had been wearing and placed them in his pocket. "Please forgive me for the delay," he spoke. "There was a bit of a distraction this morning."


"Now," he suddenly continued. "You are here to inform us on the library, and..." he thought for a brief moment before continuing. Did these Engineers know about Anna's mechanic? If not, it would be dangerous for him to even mention who he was. He made a quick decision, and thought it would be best to keep his tongue tied. "Yes, just your report." he finished, and sat back in his chair.

 

[Erica]

Three men in burgundy jackets stood as Anna entered the room. The shortest of them, a thin man with hair greying at his temples, adjusted his monocle and frowned. Unsure whether this was his default expression or a statement about her arrival, Anna smiled politely at the three of them. “Gentlemen.” She glanced at a pocket watch, noting that she was a minute early. “Thank you for coming today. Mr. White should be joining us shortly.”


They all nodded, but said nothing. Notoriously brilliant, short-spoken, and secretive, the Blackcastle Engineers had direct access to the King and thus intimidated most people. Anna, while not completely immune to this effect, refused to allow herself to be cowed. They were here at her request. (At their request, she corrected herself inwardly, including Mr. White.) Still, the silence stretched awkwardly as they sat and waited for Mr. White.


As the moments ticked by, she wondered if the ominous nature of the Engineers’ bearing was only in her mind. Would they report that Synge’s diagrams were too dangerous to discuss with the King? Had they come to forfeit their lives along with her own? The collective ticking of their timepieces filled the silence, louder to her ears now that she noticed them.


The sound of the door opening interrupted her morbid thoughts. She actually smiled to see Mr. White, although the smile faded to an expression with hints of confusion as she saw he was clean-shaven. Admittedly, the lack of shadow on his cheeks and chin made him appear fresh-faced and younger: dashing, even. Yet it did not seem to suit him. It bothered her more than it should have, interrupting her train of thought until they were all seated once more and he began to talk.


For a terrifying moment, she thought he was going to speak about Andrei and the keys. Of course he would. He would feel no need to hide anything from the Engineers, as they were an extension of the King. And Robert Amos White believed in the sovereignty of the King and his right to all relevant information. It would be unavoidable, eventually, but she had hoped to see what the keys did before disclosing Andrei’s involvement, especially after her discussion with Cecilia. She braced herself for the inevitable... but it did not come. Instead, he just asked for their report.


She kept her expression neutral and purposely avoided looking in his direction, but inwardly, she was pleasantly surprised. So much so that she nearly missed the beginning of the report.


The greying gentleman introduced himself as Chief Engineer Clint Harper and then began with an apology. “Senators. I want to emphasize that this will be a preliminary report. We hoped to have more information for you by now, but the quantity of paperwork alone will require time to analyze. However, we can draw a few conclusions with certainty, and others with less confidence.


“First, that Elijah Synge was ahead of his time. He conceived of automatons, varying in design and application. The majority of his designs seem to be focused on this application of engineering.” He paused, glancing to the other engineers before continuing. For the most part, he addressed Robert, although he would occasionally glance at Anna, he clearly felt more comfortable or appropriate speaking to the male Senator. “We can say with certainty that he had several designs, some mimicking the human form, as our machines do today, and others mimicking insects or other animals. What we have not yet determined is the purpose of those machines and different forms. Were they just concepts, acts of whimsy and exploration, or even an engineering challenge? Or do they have a specific purpose?” These questions caused him to speak more rapidly; clearly the topic held great interest to him.


Composing himself, he continued the report. “With limited certainty, we can say that he imagined a vast number of these being produced en masse, but to what end? There is very little of his notes or writing in the library - only poetry which gives no indication of his intent or even political leanings.” In fact, the poetry was so vague and poorly written that it could have been about almost anything. “Again, until we understand the purpose of the machines, that question remains open. There are prototypes - versions in miniature - of two of his designs, and they seem innocent enough from what we can tell, but we have not been able to activate them.”


It seemed Mr. Harper was finished, and he left a perfect opening for them to bring up Andrei. Anna refrained, however, taking the conversation in another direction. “When do you believe you will have more information, Mr. Harper?”


The Chief Engineer looked at her and frowned. “It is difficult to predict. The areas we are entering now, they are... delicate. I can promise you a report in two days’ time, but I cannot give my word we will know everything required for you to make a decision about addressing the King.”