Possibilities - #DirtyGoggles

Title: Possibilities (798 words)

Twitter Handle: @Helena_Kendrick

Category: Steampunk

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“Blast! That is the end of that idea.” Clarice, investigator-come-inventor, dropped the mechanical arm she was holding to the ground and proceeded to give it a good hard kick.

It flew across the room, missing Jasper’s head by a mere hand’s width. Leaning casually against the wall and sipping from a teacup, he did not seem particularly concerned, but shouted nonetheless, “Watch out!”

 “You’ll live,” said Clarice, now rummaging around in a chest. “I was sure I had a replacement valve somewhere, but it looks like we shall have to pop down to Smithy’s.”

Jasper let out an exasperated sigh. “Can I finish my tea?”

“That would depend entirely on whether you can drink it on the go.”

Clarice sprinted up the stairs from her lab two steps at a time without waiting for Jasper. At the top, she glanced in the mirror. Her hair was in a state, so she pulled on a bonnet. Licking her thumb, she cleaned grease off her cheek.

“Do I look all right?” she asked Jasper as he reached the landing.

“That would depend entirely on whether you are going for the demented spinster look.”

“Touché,” Clarice said, grabbing him by the arm. She pulled him out the door, ignoring the clattering of his teacup on the floor.

As they reached the main road a steam carriage sped past. Its engine churning loudly and billows of steam rose above their heads.

Clarice pulled herself up onto the carriage’s luggage hold without concern for her skirts or the shouts of the carriage’s occupants. “Come on, Jasper. We’ve not got all day!”

Pulling himself up beside her, Jasper slumped against a suitcase.

Clarice watched as London rushed past. The familiar buildings blurred together, but above two airships sailed through the sky, their huge balloons chasing away any notions of the ‘impossible’. Clarice smiled. With a replacement valve, a little luck and some elbow grease, she would have herself a working automaton in no time.

“Next corner,” she shouted at Jasper above the sound of the wind.

As the carriage slowed down to take the bend, she and Jasper leapt down. Clarice stumbled only slightly on the cobblestones, but had to catch Jasper as he toppled forward, nearly heading straight into an apple cart.

“You are going to be the death of me,” said Jasper, brushing off his coat.

“But such an exciting death it shall be,” Clarice returned with her most maniacal grin.

The two wandered down a lane and arrived at a building that had seen better days. Windows were boarded up and grime coated the façade, but Clarice was unconcerned until she saw the half open door. The sign which usually read “Please Enter” was lying upside down on the ground and fragments of glass spilled out from inside.

Clarice edged slowly through the entrance, her feet crunching on the glass. “Stay outside, Jasper.”

She did not wait for a response, but walked further inside. Clarice could not make out the precise source of the glass as the entire room was a wreck. A table was upturned and the shelves which usually held an assortment of mechanical odds and ends had been tipped over.

“Deidre?” Clarice called out.

She heard a muffled sound from the back room and rushed towards it, ignoring the sound of broken possibilities underfoot.

Deidre Smith was tied to a chair, her mouth gagged with a cloth. Her wide eyes strained and Clarice understood their warning. Twisting, she slammed her elbow into the chest of the man who had stepped out from behind the door. He grunted but continued to move forward, his arms wrapping around her.

Clarice threw her head back, expertly smashing the back of her head into the intruder’s nose. He released his grasp on her waist and Clarice turned, throwing a punch across his jaw. The man recovered, though, and before Clarice could take another swing, he dashed through the front room and past Jasper, who had ignored Clarice’s order and come inside. Torn between chasing the intruder, and helping her friend, Clarice watched as the man vanished onto the street.

“What on Earth?” asked Jasper.

Clarice returned to Deidre’s side, unbound her hands from behind the chair and pulled off her gag.

“Dearest, are you all right?” Clarice asked, placing a hand on Deidre’s shoulder.

“Fine,” said Deidre, “But my shop.”

“I shall find out who was behind this, I promise, but I do not suppose you know whether any of your 15mm valves are still in one piece?”

“Clarice!” Jasper broke in. “This is hardly the time.”

“This is precisely the time,” said Clarice. “I need to build myself an assistant!”

Jasper sighed. “Just a thought, Clarice, but have you considered hiring a human?”

"Oh Jasper, sometimes you really are too preposterous.”

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The above was written for the #DirtyGoggles flash competition, hosted by Jenn, Stephen and Ruth. You can find out more here: http://ruth-long.com/?p=481 

It's 3.30am now, so I'm not entirely sure my story makes sense, but the other entries in the comp are well worth reading - they are all linked on Ruth's blog, so check them out! The character's in my tale are old friends from a series of short stories I've been writing, which I may, some day, turn into a novel (or something). Maybe.