The City in the Sky
CHAPTER 24

Mulligan looked out the window and watched the mechanical gargoyle perched outside on the corner of the building’s façade ratchet its head upwards to receive the offering of precipitation as it fell from the cold, iron sky. The little room in Saint Eligius Medical Repair Center was dark and gloomy, but not nearly so much as the dimly lit operating theater James had spent the last 4 hours in.

When he had first arrived at the multistory, stone-crafted building carrying Lucy’s limp body, they had immediately tried to separate them. They told him they “would get to work right away on her”. That “she would be fine”, and he “should wait in the reception lobby”. But James knew he couldn’t let her out of his sight. Joshua’s words still rang through his mind in an ominous echo.

“You don’t know how high all this goes”, he had warned.

So veiled, it seemed to the detective. So ugly and threatening. Danger now seemed to lurk in every corner, and be hiding in every shadow. Driven to the brink of paranoia, James had refused to relinquish her, so they finally placated him by allowing him to observe the procedure from one of the center’s theaters that they typically reserved for teaching.

The surgical auditorium was large and ovular in shape. Rows of wooden seats ran up its side in a graduated fashion to allow proper viewing from all angles. The only source of light came from the reflecting lamps in the theater’s center which illuminated the still form of Lucy as she lay naked on a surgical slab. Tubes ran into her mouth forcing black powdered fuel and water into the necessary receptacles. She looked so vulnerable, Mulligan found it hard to not run to her aid. Initially Mulligan thought himself alone in the observation seating. But as he scanned the room, he was dismayed to replace a dark, silhouetted figure seated on the top row of the theater’s opposite side.

The operation seemed gruesome in and of itself, but the effect was multiplied in the mind of James, who was reminded of all the horrific slaughter he had witnessed over the past few months. Still, his hand steadily rested on the grip of his pistol as his tired eyes wavered between Lucy, and the mysterious spectator.

The Surgical Repair Technician pulled on his thick leather gloves, while the machines stationed around him hissed and belched. For a moment, the tech turned, and (it seemed to Mulligan,) inclined his head giving a quick nod before turning his attention back on his patient. When the Tech pulled a long thin blade from the tray at this elbow, Mulligan had felt his blistered hand tighten around the Sakai stowed in his jacket. With jaw clenched, he watched for any sudden movements as the procedure began with the S.R.T. making a long incision over Lucy’s sternum. He fought the urge to look away as the tech probed about Lucy’s open chest, searching for the wound in her boiler.

The steam billowed forth and blinding sparks flew from Lucy’s metal heart while the S.R.T. manipulated the metallurgy instruments around him to seal the puncture. Then, using a sparker from the tray, he ignited Lucy’s combustion chamber. Satisfied with the job, he closed up by melting the edges of the incision together with a hand-held hot iron to seal and cauterize the surgical site. Mulligan watched anxiously as the orderlies rushed her off to the room in the Clockwork recovery ward. Then he rose and made his way to the other side of the theater hoping to confront the dark stranger, but when he reached the opposite end he found his unknown adversary had gone. Shaken, he made haste to follow Lucy, nervously watching for signs of any impending attack.

An hour passed and nothing nefarious happened, but Lucy lay yet still. James sat by, holding her hand, willing her to move. To open her eyes. To say something.

The Surgical Repair Tech strode into the room smiling and nodding at Mulligan as he removed his goggles and mask. He looked surprisingly young and affable to the detective, given his occupation. He shook Mulligan’s hand and introduced himself as “Doctor Whitlock”.

“The procedure was successful, I believe”, he had said, smiling with his twinkling grey eyes.

“She’s still not moving, Doc”, replied James, who didn’t share the Doctor’s confidence.

“Relax, Detective. It will take some time for her boiler to regain the necessary pressure to allow function.”

“I see”, said James softly, his eyes locked on the immobile Lucy.

Whitlock sighed and looked upon James piteously before saying, “I’ve patched the hole, but the scar will always be a defect in her boiler from here on. If you had given us more time, I would have recommended leaving her out of commission until a transplant boiler could be found. As it stands, I strongly counsel against any situations of stress or exertion where her internal pressure may exceed normal ranges. Understood?”

James nodded, but still didn’t take his eyes from Lucy. “Doctor Whitlock? I couldn’t help but notice that before you started the surgery, you motioned to another man seated in the observation area. Could you tell me, who was he?”

Whitlock gave Mulligan a quizzical look, before responding, “You know, I’m not exactly sure. I was told there would be a Senior Surgical Technician monitoring the procedure...”

Mulligan gave a sigh of relief and felt his body relax a bit.

“You look like you could use some rest, Detective Mulligan. And...“, Whitlock broke off his diagnosis, having just noticed James’ blistered palms. “Bloody hell! What have you done to your hands? We need to get you treated immediately!”

Mulligan shook his head and said, “Sorry, Doc. I can’t leave her.”

“Please don’t take offense, Detective, but you’re as stubborn as you are crazy!“, said the doctor with an exasperated sigh. “Have it your way then. We will have someone up here in a few minutes.”

With Lucy on the mend, James’ mind was free to dwell on the other problem: Namely how to stop any further attempts on Lucy’s or his own life. Drakolisk’s remarks had effectively put Mulligan off going to his own Ministry. If, as Joshua had suggested, there was no telling how high up the chain this went, he certainly couldn’t take any chances with M.C.A. A letter to her Majesty? This also seemed out of the question as perhaps it was she who set this plot in motion. In summary, James was left with little recourse.

When attendant had finished bandaging Mulligan’s hands, the detective requested access to an in-room pneumagraph.

“But, Sir”, the attendant had countered, “We have a public pneumagraph in the lobby.”

“I’m sorry”, said Mulligan, “but I just can’t leave her.”

The attendant gave Mulligan an inquisitive look and said, “All right, Mr. Mulligan, I will bring one up, but promise me you’ll get some rest. You look like hell.”

The next day, the sun poured into the little room. Dark circles rimmed James’ eyes as fatigue took its toll after his night long vigil he had held over the unresponsive Lucy. He gave a deep yawn and was making his way to the door to summon an attendant to bring him some coffee when Lucy sprang upright in bed. It happened so suddenly that James leapt back with a start. For a few seconds Lucy stared through the dumbfounded detective. Finally she blinked and looked around the room in wonder as she attempted to make sense of everything, before her eyes resettled on Mulligan and she smiled.

James quickly recovered and ran to her side. Being overcome with emotion, he found himself unable to say anything so he simply took her hand and tearfully kissed it.

“James! Oh!? Where are we?”

Mulligan knew he had to answer her, but was afraid if he barged ahead too incautiously he may push her into a state of high stress.

“We are at the Medical Repair Center”, he began as delicately as possible, fearful of shocking her into a life threatening state. “I’m afraid you were…”

“Stabbed!”, cried Lucy her eyes wide with the sudden recollection. “Dr. Drakolisk…Why did he…?” She asked clutching her hand to the cautery line that ran down the right side of her left breast.

Mulligan took her hand gently in his and said, “Don’t worry about that, my love. The surgeon said you will be as good as new. As for Joshua, it’s….” James trailed off in midsentence as his memories commandeered his emotions.

Lucy squeezed his hand and her brown knit in concern. She searched his eyes for the answer as she asked, “James, are we going to be okay?”

James gave her his most reassuring smile and said, “I think so.” He handed her a copy of the Early Edition. She flipped the papy’ over to the front page and read the first headline out loud:

MINISTER OF ENERGY LINKED TO CLOCKWORK SLAYINGS

She looked up at Mulligan, her eyes wide. Mulligan smiled again and pressed her to “read on”.

“Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, announced today that the Minister of Energy, Sir Gregory Irons, has been released from his post and that an official investigation of the M.O.E. is currently underway. The alleged problems began just over a year ago, shortly after the enthusiastic Sir Irons took the Minister position. Although no official explanation has been offered, a source from inside the Ministry has revealed that Sir Irons sent an envoy to the Clockwork Coal Collective requesting that they relinquish ownership to the Crown. Upon their refusal, Sir Irons allegedly ordered the assassination of the so-called ‘Devonshire Clan’ by way of his own illegally constructed Clockwork. Clockwork fabrication was declared unlawful over 100 years ago.

In a related story, Dr. Joshua Drakolisk, Chief Medical Examiner of M.C.A. and wanted for questioning in connection with the construction of the illegal Clockwork, was found dead late yesterday evening at the house of M.C.A. detective, James Mulligan. The cause of death is, at press time, unknown.

The office of Her Majesty has issued the following statement:

‘It is our deepest regret to discover such travesties committed against Mecha-kind may have been perpetuated by any representative of the office of The Crown. We wish to clarify that such actions were never sanctioned by Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, and want to extend our most sincere condolences to all Clockworks regarding their loss. As a show of good faith, Her Majesty, declares that the Coal Collective be turned over to all Clockworks, and that from this day forth all Clockworks shall be given equality including all rights, privileges, and opportunities enjoyed by any citizen of this great land…’”

Upon reading the last sentence, Lucy paused as if the breath had been stolen from her. She remained silently still for so long that Mulligan began to grow fearful, until he heard the light tap of the tears as they fell from her eyes to the paper in her hands. James had seen Clockworks cry before. It struck him as another curious, seemingly unnecessary, trait Ayumu thought to instill in his children, but at this moment he found it incredibly endearing. He smiled and caressed her hand with his. She looked up from the periodical with a tearful smile and nodded her happiness to James as she was still unable to speak. He took her in his arms and held her tight against him. Through his chest, he felt her elation pour from her metal heart into his own and fill him.

“Thank you, dearest James. You have brought me such happiness. For the first time, I feel as if I have my own life. It’s hard to explain, but it almost feels as if someone has handed me the key to my future”, Lucy whispered.

“And I thank you, Lucy. I think I can see now why purpose is so important to Clockworks. Everyone needs to be needed, and you have given my life new purpose. I want you in my life now and for always.”

Lucy grinned and said, ’I was hoping you would say that, but aren’t you worried about what other people will say. They will surely look down on you for taking part in a so-called ‘artificial romance’“.

Mulligan smiled at the expression. It was an unflattering name given by those who could not understand such a love. To them it was no different than a modern-day version of Pygmalion. Perhaps there was a time when Mulligan would have been numbered among them in their ignorance, but things had changed.

“I’m sure they will, my dear, but it doesn’t matter. There is nothing ‘artificial’ about the love I feel for you”, he replied.

If Lucy could have blushed, she surely would have. “Love...“, she repeated the word as if it were a piece in a curio cabinet that she was admiring. “Ayumu used to talk about it. He said it was ‘the greatest of all human expressions’, but he always had such difficulty describing it. I don’t know if a Clockwork even has such a capacity, but I think...I love you, James.”

“You don’t have to say anymore, Lucy. Ayumu was right, love is a word that encompasses many feelings and has countless meanings. Volumes have been written about it, and though its various parts have been defined, it still remains elusive. All I can add is if you feel that you love someone, then you do. And that’s enough for me.”

Lucy’s eyes shined as she said, “And for me as well. So what do we do now?”

James had been thinking alot about their future but still didn’t feel fully prepared to answer this question. The past days events had happened so quickly that he wasn’t sure just how radically their relationship had been altered. “Well”, he began uncertainly, “I would say we take it one step at a time. Starting with you getting better and then we can go home.”

Lucy looked slightly cresfallen. “I know that we are now ‘equal’, but what if the courts reject the idea of a Human-Clockwork marriage? Can we no longer be together?”

“You’re right, Lucy. No doubt such a wedding may be denied, but I don’t need some court approved formailty to validate my love for you. I will stay by your side, come what may.”

This cheered the Clockwork considerably. She beamed and said, “Then there is only one other thing that concerns me. Please, be honest: Does it bother you that even though you will get older, I will not physically change?”

James laughed heartily at this and replied, “Bother me? Of course not, rather I’d think it might bother you having a doddering old man on your arm.”

Now they both laughed, but before Lucy could say anything to the contrary, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Without waiting for an invitation, Frederich Archer poked his head in the door and said, “I hope I’m not interrupting you.”

Mulligan looked at Lucy and grinned as he said, “No of course not, Fred. Please come in.”

“Thank you”, replied the commandant who’s grim expression caused Mulligan’s own smile to falter. “How are you getting on, Miss Devonshire?“, queried Archer.

“Wonderful, thank you for asking, Mr. Archer”, said Lucy who’s mystified look was mirrored in Mulligan’s.

“Good!“, said Archer nervously, “That’s good.”

Unable to take the suspense any longer, Mulligan demanded, “Is something wrong, Fred?”

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.”