Machinery
The following story, originally titled Mechanical is based on a writing activity I had given to some of my students. We came into the bookstore for our weekly Writer’s Club meeting and I asked each of them to find a random book, flip to a random page, and place their finger on a random word. From there, they were asked to write a story using that word. The word I had landed on was “mechanical”. Once I started this blog and was trying to figure out what I was going to write next, I kept going back to this small story I wrote and wondered how I could expand on it. While it took me a few months to complete, I find myself somewhat satisfied with how far I’ve been able to take it. Hell, I feel like I could even expand on it more if I wanted to. But then I might be writing it forever and never be satisfied with an ending. Not to mention that it definitely took a very different route than I was originally intending. What started as something that was supposed to be entirely steampunk-based, ended with a more sci-fi-type twist (again, in my opinion). So here we are, with the completed short story, now with the better fitting title (in my opinion), Machinery. The first paragraph you will read is the original idea from where this story came from. I hope you enjoy!
Mechanical
I enter the room, poking my head through the door in attempt to not be seen. Steam hits my face, causing my eyes to water and I immediately break into a sweat. My eyes widen at the sheer size of the machinery in the room, and how it seems to extend on forever, miles of large machines pumping out I don’t even want to know. After making sure the coast is clear, I enter the room slowly, my heart pounding at the possibility of what I might find.
Machinery
Liam turns a corner, his heart pounding in his chest. His breathing is loud in his ears as his calves beg him to slow down, though he knows even faltering for a moment would ultimately be his death.
Metal clanging against the stone ground behind him signals he is nowhere close to losing the guards who currently pursue him. He doesn’t dare turn back, but he can feel the distance steadily closing between them. If he doesn’t somehow gain just even a little more momentum, they’ll be on top of him in seconds.
Arms pumping hard at his sides, he wills himself to pick up speed. Every muscle in his body screams in protest, bile rising in his throat as his vision begins to go dark. He curses his family under his breath as he veers around another corner, officially hating them for raising him as a baker and engineer, rendering him completely unfit for physical activity.
“You don’t want to be a soldier, Liam,” he can hear his father saying. “You’ll thank me one day for giving you the bakery and not sending you off to guard the frontlines like every other son in this city.”
Well, I’m certainly not thanking you right now, Papa, he thinks to himself. He attempts to take a deep breath, but it’s no use. Exhaustion is beginning to take over and he feels himself beginning to stagger.
“HALT,” one of the guards robotically calls out behind him. He can almost feel the heat from the steam rising out of the metal pistons jutting out of their shoulders, the smell of burning coal reaching his nostrils.
He takes yet another corner and is beginning to question how he is going to remember getting out of here when he spots a door just up ahead. For just a moment, he is able to forget the pain from running and he suddenly gains a speed he didn’t have before. He pushes himself to get to the door before the guards also turn the corner, and slams himself against it. It opens with such ease and he nearly falls to the ground, losing his footing beneath him. He’s able to adjust himself quickly, though, and quickly closes the door behind him and leans against it.
From the other side, he hears the guards charge past and everything in him finally relaxes. He slides down to the ground, his heart feeling like it might burst out of his chest. He spreads his legs out in front of him and leans his head against the door, the stone ground cooling his overworked body.
As he takes this moment to finally catch his breath, he begins to take in his surroundings. He sits in what appears to be an empty room - or really, it’s more like a hallway. Another door sits just a few feet in front of him and a few empty shelves take up the walls on either side.
He has to swallow hard as he shakily forces himself to stand, the urge to throw up growing stronger as his body begs him not to move. While he may have lost the guards for now, it’s only a matter of time before they find him again.
His legs wobble as he crosses the hall to the other door. This one is thicker than the first, made of a more reinforced iron, strong enough to keep anyone - or anything - out. He tries the handle to find it locked and realization dawns on him.
“This is it,” he says out loud to himself. Whatever is behind this door is the reason why he was sent here. Anxiousness replaces exhaustion as he begins searching for some kind of keypad. Lisa said it might be hidden, so he takes a hand and begins feeling along the edge of the wall next to the door. At first, he doesn’t feel anything, but eventually, his hand passes over a slight bump in the wall. He gives it a small push and a keypad suddenly appears, glowing a faint blue in the dark of the hallway.
His hands feel clammy as he recalls the code Lisa gave him: 1-6-3-8-4. He enters the codes and takes a step back. At first, everything is quiet and nothing happens. His nerves begin to take over and he starts to worry he may have entered the code wrong. If I screw this up… There’s no going back to camp, that’s for sure. The others would never forgive him, and he highly doubts he’d even be able to outrun the guards a second time.
*Click* He sighs in relief as the door finally unlocks and he pulls on the handle once more. He pokes his head through the door, trying to remain unseen in case anyone sits on the other side. Steam hits his face, causing his eyes to water and he immediately breaks into a sweat from the sudden heat. He glances around, confirming that he is alone before stepping inside.
Across from the door is a railing with two sets of stairs leading down on either side of him. He steps up to the railing and his eyes widen at the sheer size of the machinery in front of him. They all stand at least twenty feet tall from the ground but vary in width. While some look like he can easily wrap his arms around them, others look bigger than his bedroom in Papa’s cottage. He looks across the room and finds he is unable to see where it ends, the machinery extending on for what looks like miles.
He takes the stairs to his right and notices the heat worsening as he gets closer to the ground. From this angle, the machinery stands intimidatingly tall and he suddenly feels very, very small. He walks up to the first machine and notices a bright, orange glow emitting from behind the iron door. He can’t see what’s on the other side, but an unfamiliar burning smell meets his nostrils.
Sweat drenches his forehead and shirt as he begins to walk. Most of the machines emit that same orange glow, however, he notices a few of them burn blue, purple, or even green. As he continues walking, the sound of cogs turning can be faintly heard from somewhere in the distance.
This isn’t anything like what he was expecting to find down here - not that he was really expecting anything at all. When the war reached the city and he and Papa were forced to flee, he had no idea he would end up here. Joining Lisa’s camp was nothing more than a feeling of needing to survive and needing to get away from the horrors he left behind.
Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he finds himself recalling that horrible day… If finding whatever it is they need him to find down here somehow helps him avenge his Mama’s death, then he’ll make sure nothing stops him.
***
6 Months Ago
Sun shines brightly through the thin curtains of Liam’s bedroom. Birds chirp outside and he can faintly hear his Mama and Papa out in the kitchen, their voices quiet through his closed door. He slowly pulls himself out of bed and gently makes his way to the door, not wanting to make a noise that would indicate he’s awake. Tension has been high lately with the threat of the war practically on the city’s doorsteps, and he knows his parents are worried about the potential outcome.
“No,” Papa’s voice angrily whispers. “No, we will not be sending our only child off to fight. I refuse.”
“Harold,” Mama responds. “I understand but we may have no choice. The King is ordering-”
“I don’t give a damn what the King is ordering,” Papa snaps, his voice raising ever so slightly. “We promised to keep Liam out of this mess and as his father, it is my responsibility to keep that promise. He’s only eighteen, that’s far too young to send him off to his death.”
Silence follows and Liam can almost feel the stares his parents share with each other. He knows it would be easier for him to volunteer to fight rather than be forced to go if and when the situation gets worse. But he also silently thanks his Papa trying to keep him out of it as long as possible. Five years ago, Liam’s older brother, Nathan, enlisted to fight in the first battle and was killed only days later - a pain that has sat with his family ever since. Liam can’t imagine how they would feel if they were to lose him as well.
Besides, Liam knows he is no fighter, not like how Nathan was. While Nathan grew up participating in sports and running around, he was perfectly content learning how to bake with his Papa and focusing on his studies. He’s always been more interested in learning the inner workings of the machines that his people not only use on a daily basis, but also the ones that roam the city and guard the gates. He’s not sure where the curiosity started, but the idea of a sentient machine has always fascinated him. He would very much like to learn how to build his own someday.
“The war grows closer every day,” Mama finally says as Liam opens the door and walks into the kitchen. “We might want to start taking some precautions. My sister lives on the other end of the city, perhaps we can relocate-”
Papa suddenly stands, pushing a half-filled plate of food away from him. “If the war breaches the gates, nowhere in the city will be safe, Marlene.” He then storms out of their small cottage, huffing as he does so.
Liam looks at his Mama, her face distraught. She looks tired, maybe slightly older, the wrinkles around her eyes looking deeper than normal. Perhaps stress will just do that to a person. She doesn’t acknowledge Liam as she slowly kneads a ball of dough in front of her. He silently walks over to her and she jumps slightly as she takes her hands in his. She finally turns to him, tears forming in her eyes.
“He’s just worried,” Liam tells her. “I will make sure to do whatever it is you need me to do to keep you safe.”
She gives her son a sad look and places a hand on his cheek. “I know,” she says. “But that burden should not fall on you.”
Liam returns her smile and steps away. His heart aches because he knows there will only be so much he can do if something were to happen. As much as he wants to be the strong and brave son his parents lost five years ago, he knows he could never possibly live up to the standards of his older brother.
“I should go and help Papa at the bakery. Do you need anything before I leave?”
Mama turns back to the lump of dough on the counter and shakes her head. Liam nods and goes back to his room to get ready for the day. Once he’s dressed, he makes sure to give her a kiss on the cheek before heading out.
It’s about a ten-minute walk from their cottage to their bakery depending on how many people might be milling about and what vendors might be set up for the day. Most days, Liam passes by them all without a second glance, but today he decides to take some extra time and look for the perfect gift for his mother’s upcoming birthday.
He peruses for a short time before finally settling on a small necklace from a jewelry stand. The chain is small and made of silver with a small emerald pendant hanging from the chain. He gestures to the jewelry stand owner to let her know he has made his decision. She places it in a small bag with a smile and says, “That will be ten gold pieces.”
Liam takes his coin bag and takes out the ten pieces, ignoring that he is spending the majority of his month's earnings. He begins handing her the ten pieces as she hands him the small baggy when a low rumbling noise suddenly sounds somewhere in the distance. The whole street seems to freeze for a moment and Liam feels his heart skip a beat in his chest. Everyone turns towards the direction of the noise as it begins to settle down and disappear.
Murmurs of confusion begin to circulate as Liam turns back to the jewelry stand owner and the two of them complete their transaction. Though his heart beats slightly faster in his chest, he takes one last look towards where the sound came from before continuing off to Papa’s bakery.
As Liam reaches the bakery, however, the rumbling noise begins once again, this time a bit louder. He turns back around, attempting to discern what the noise might be. It almost sounds mechanical, like large gears turning each other over and over again. The ground below begins to shake and he has to reach out and grab the wall in front of him to keep himself from falling over.
That’s when the screaming starts.
It’s faint at first, almost drowned out by the ever-growing rumbling sound. Liam’s heart drops as he watches people running down the street from where he came. They start shoving past him, their eyes frantic and fearful of whatever might be coming.
Liam slowly turns towards the bakery window where he makes brief eye contact with his father, who is struggling to make his way from behind a counter and to the front door. Realization suddenly takes over and Liam’s father quickly starts shaking his head, mouthing the words “no” and “run”. Without so much as a second thought, though, Liam takes off running towards his family's cottage.
Everyone else runs in the opposite direction, shoving him out of their way as the street quickly becomes overcrowded and chaos ensues. He tries pushing his way through, but the sea of people desperately tries to push him back. He frantically scans the crown to see if Mama is among them, but it’s no use.
The crown begins to thin as their cottage finally comes into Liam’s view. However, as he pushes through the last line of people, he freezes. He watches in horror as to what can only be described as a large, mechanical plough tears through dirt and crushes homes and businesses alike underneath it. The machine must stand at least one hundred feet tall and the blades look as though they extend forty feet wide. Liam’s mind briefly reflects back on his studies and he knows that nothing of that size and shape should be able to function and move like that - and yet it is.
The buildings in its path does slow it down considerably and Liam is able to finally snap out of his daze when he sees it inching closer and closer to his home. Cursing under his breath, he takes off running, struggling to keep his footing as the ground begins to crack beneath his feet.
He enters the cottage and time around him slows down. Furniture and cabinets are strewn about and the ceiling has already started to cave in. Homes in the city don’t have the structural integrity to sustain an earthquake or any kind of devastating disaster for that matter.
Liam’s breath catches in his throat as he examines the rubble around him, and he has to keep himself from lurching forward when he sees an arm extending out from under a beam. Taking as much care as he can of the debris now surrounding him, he rushes over and begins pulling chunks of ceiling and wall off his mother, his mind momentarily forgetting the impending danger just outside their doorstep.
He’s finally able to uncover the face of his mother and she begins to cough, her face coated in white dust. Red marks her temples and under her nose. When her eyes meet his, they go wide.
“Liam,” she just barely gets out. “Go. You need to go.”
Tears well in his eyes and he shakes his head as he begins attempting to shove away the beam that currently pins her to the ground. His muscles scream in protest and he suddenly finds himself wishing his parents had pushed him to be more athletic after all, and not put so much focus on his studies.
“No,” he cries out, his teeth clenching as he strains to push his whole body weight against the beam. Outside he can hear the large plough growing closer, and more pieces of the roof begin to fall around him.
He then screams as a large chunk lands on his shoulder and falls on top of the beam, making the impossible task of saving Mama even more difficult. Pain lances through his entire body and his shirt dampens as blood begins drawing from a cut he can’t quite feel yet on his back. He desperately looks down at his mother, his vision blurry from crying. She doesn’t move, her eyes looking straight up. He reaches down and lightly shakes her, but her body remains limp.
Liam falls to his knees, his entire body suddenly feeling too heavy to carry on his own. A shout comes from behind him and two sets of hands wrap around his arms, pulling him to his feet. He numbly begins to follow them, his legs feeling as though they belong to a stranger as he runs alongside the two strangers who just saved his life.
It takes everything in his power to not turn back around as he hears his home being crushed under the large blades of the plow. Everything he’s ever known - his entire existence - gone, just like that. The image of his mother's pale frame follows him with each step he takes.
***
Present Day
Liam continues walking for what feels like forever, his feet dragging beneath him as he attempts to fight off the exhaustion that is slowly taking over him. Between the heat and his body not used to this much physical exertion, it takes everything in him to stand upright, let alone put one foot in front of the other.
After about an hour, he is able to determine that he is, in fact, alone. No guards - human or machine - seem to wander the never-ending maze of large machinery. He takes this as his opportunity to take a moment to rest. He manages to find a spot furthest away from any machines, the air considerably cooler, though still almost intolerable. He wipes a hand across his forehead in an attempt to rid of the sweat that lines his brow, but it’s no use. He’s not sure how much longer he can take the heat, and the water in the pouch he brought is starting to run low. He knows he’s not going to have any left for the journey back to camp at this point.
Taking a deep breath, he manages to push himself back off the ground and continues walking. Surely this labyrinth of machinery has to end at some point.
“You’ll know it when you see it,” Lisa’s voice rings faintly in his head. “We… aren’t entirely sure what it looks like. But there will be no mistaking it’s what we are looking for. This could potentially win us this war, Liam. Don’t let us down.”
Liam huffs and silently curses himself for volunteering for this mission. Ever since Mama died, he’s felt this need to do something more - to be something more. He’s sure he’s gone a bit mad, maybe even suicidal, since that day. But he also has this strong desire to prove to her that he can make things right. He knows attempting to help end the war won’t bring her back… but it might bring him the peace he so desperately needs. Or a sense of closure at the very least.
Liam continues walking for a few minutes, boredom and exhaustion fighting him with each step he takes. He’s just about convinced himself that the labyrinth of machines is never-ending when suddenly the area opens up in front of him. At first, he is in shock as he is blasted with cold air, a welcome - but sudden - change from the terrible heat behind him. He almost sighs in relief, but the scene in front of him causes him to freeze in his tracks.
Smaller machines now sit in front of him, about one hundred if he had to guess. Unlike the sporadic placement and sizing of the heated machines behind him, these machines sit in an organized line. Large wires extend from the top of each machine and towards the ceiling. Liam looks up in an attempt to see where the wires lead, but they disappear into darkness, the ceiling too tall to see the top.
Liam begins to walk closer to the machines and the faint noise of gears grinding against each other meets his ears. He takes his time to examine the machine closest to him, his old love for anything mechanical sparking somewhere in his mind. These machines are nothing like he’s seen before - they lay at an angle, their edges rounded like an egg. Intricate designs cover the entire front side, thin pieces of metal coiling around each other in an unrecognizable pattern.
Just underneath the large wires jutting out the top is a circular window. Liam has to stand on his toes to see what rests inside. He places his hands against the machine, trying to balance himself as he tries to get a closer look, however, he jumps back in surprise. The machine is ice cold to the touch and he leaves a handprint behind, making him finally notice the frost that lines the sides.
Bracing himself, Liam stands on his toes once more, being careful not to touch the metal directly. At first, it is hard to see what sits on the other side of the window and he has to wipe away a layer of frost from the glass. It takes a moment for Liam to realize what he is staring at now is the face of a young woman. Her eyes are open, though no life can be found behind them. Frost lines her eyelashes and her skin is a sheer white against the darkness encasing the machine around her.
Liam’s heart starts to pound lightly in his chest as he quickly examines a few more of the machines - or, pods - and to his horror, confirms each is occupied by another person. Men and women, young and old, all sharing that same blank, cold stare. Each pod is coated in a thin layer of frost, cold emitting from the metal casing. Liam notices small gears turning against each other near the wires as if they are helping the pods pump or move something out of them, but Liam can’t figure out exactly what that is.
A sick feeling settles in Liam’s stomach as he realizes that this is what he must be looking for; what he was sent in to find. What is the purpose of it all? What are these people here for?
Swallowing, Liam continues on past several more pods, not really sure what to be looking for at this point. He takes a moment every so often to try and examine a new pod closer, though nothing sticks out to him. They all look the same, those tiny gears turning over each other and those same wires pulsating out the top of each pod.
Defeat washes over Liam as he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s completely failed the mission and has let everyone back at camp down. He decided a long time ago that getting out of here alive is out of the question, it’s just a shame that his death will be completely meaningless. Not quite the avenging story he was going for.
Still, though, he continues on. The only other thing he could do other than wander around aimlessly is to lie down until he withers away to nothing. Surely the cold coming from the pods would be enough to take him out, though it might be a faster demise if he turns and goes back to the heat of the machines.
“This could potentially win us this war, Liam. Don’t let us down.” Lisa’s voice enters his mind once more and he cries out in shame.
“Stupid,” he yells as he reaches out and hits the side of one of the pods. Cold and pain flares through his knuckles and he reels back in pain.
“So stupid,” he wheezes as he nurses his hurt hand with his good hand. Judging by the feeling in his fingers, he ultimately broke it. “That’s what you get for punching cold metal, you idiot.”
Tears stinging the back of his eyes and completely overwhelmed by the pain and misery of it all, Liam almost doesn’t notice that he has finally reached a wall. No way…
He freezes and looks up a the wall now towering in front of him. Has he finally reached the end of this endless maze? He’d been wandering, lost, for hours now. He was sure it was never going to end,
Just as there had been when he entered, two sets of stairs occupy both sides of the wall, leading up to something unknown. From down here, there’s no telling what might be up there.
Bracing himself, Liam begins to tentatively climb the stairs on the right, his heart stuck in his throat as he tries to imagine what could possibly be at the top. His legs burn with each step, his whole body completely overworked from this entire ordeal. If he does happen to make it out alive, he’s going to refuse to move for days, maybe even weeks.
Heart in his throat, Liam slowly approaches the last few steps. The image of those mechanical guards silently waiting for him to ascend flashes in his mind. However, as he takes those final steps, he finds the area to be just as empty as when he first entered the other side.
Shaking, he wobbles over to the metal bar that separates him from the sheer plummet down back to the pods, and he surveys everything before him. The view from here compared to the side he entered gives him a much different perspective. It’s almost eerie, looking down at the pods beneath him, knowing there are people stuck inside each and every one of them.
Liam turns around to see a large console taking up a good portion of the area he is now in. He walks to it and finds several, small screens, each of them turned on and displaying different moving images. He studies one screen and finds a somewhat familiarity in the images being displayed, though he can’t quite put his finger on why.
He takes a moment to slowly examine each screen, each one more familiar than the last. He finally lands on one screen, though, and his heart sinks as realization takes over him. Each screen displays parts of his city - or at least, what remains of it. Everything lays in rubble, flattened down to the Earth, likely by that giant plow that drove through the city all those months ago. The screen he currently looks at, though, shows where his old home used to sit.
Where he last saw his Mama.
Tears prick the back of his eyes and he remembers why he came all this way. He frantically begins looking at each screen and all around the console. Buttons of various colors all flash at him while one, larger red button sits in the middle, unblinking. Each screen flashes at him, images of his destroyed home causing a new emotion to rise inside him.
Anger. Red-hot anger begins to seep its way through his veins and his face becomes hot with rage. Without so much as a second thought or trying to think rationally, Liam reaches for the giant red button in the center of the console and presses it.
Almost immediately, everything is plunged into darkness and goes absolutely silent. Liam finds himself holding his breath, waiting for something - anything - else to happen. He doesn’t dare move from his spot as he can’t see a thing, his eyes refusing to adjust to the sudden loss of light.
Then, from somewhere below, there’s a popping noise. And then another, followed by another, and so on. Fear replaces Liam’s anger and he finds himself cowering down, attempting to hide from what might ever be happening - or coming.
