TCB Part 46: Epilogue (Cont.)

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< Part 45

Higgs woke to the sound of the breakfast bell. He stood up from his pallet and stretched like a cat. He hadn’t grown accustomed to the pallet, or the cold gray walls. He’d learned to live with the constantly burning oil lamps that lit his cell day and night. The smell had made him ill at first, now it was just a part of the background noise of the jail where he’d spent the last three months.

No trial had been held. He supposed these sorts of things didn’t require a trial so much anymore. He was fortunate that he hadn’t been sent to a work camp as a Technologist sympathizer. He wasn’t a sympathizer, though the recent events did nothing to endear him to the ruling party. Three months in jail without trial did that to a man. Still, he wasn’t about to press for a speedy trial. He was caught red handed, and there’s no way that a trial would improve his situation.

He stood by his cell door and waited for the jailer to flip the lever that would open the lock. He’d spent a lot of the time thinking about his life and where he went wrong. He’d thought his plan had been perfect. It was the little mistakes that did them in. When Charlotte ended up off the airship, she got the attention of the farmer who drove her to the city. When a hefty reward is offered, a poor farmer takes notice of the suspicious young woman he found near the site of the crime. A taxi driver tends to notice a pretty girl, and he’s quite likely to notice her suspicious behavior even more.

The door opened and Higgs began his habitual walk to the dining hall. Of course, if it was only Charlotte, he wasn’t sure that she would have given up the rest of them. She was a woman of principles, unlike Everton L. Montebanque. Judging by how quickly they were caught, he suspected that Everton had cracked immediately. He may have even run to the investigator on his own. No, Higgs suspected that it was the threat of what would happen to him if they labeled him a Technologist. They’d have had good reason to do so. Higgs couldn’t blame him for wanting to make a deal, but he wished it hadn’t cost so much for everybody else.

Higgs was in line to get his breakfast when a guard called his name from across the room. He approached ominously and grabbed Higgs by the upper arm. He roughly led Higgs into a windowless room with a table and two chairs. He pointed at one of the chairs and told Higgs to sit. He complied and the guard left the room, locking the door behind him. Higgs stared at the two-way mirror in the wall across the room. He wondered who was on the other side. Was this when he would finally be sent to trial? Or worse?

The city’s police chief walked into the room and sat in the chair across from Higgs. He was a short, overweight man, who compensated with bravado and a tough façade. “You’ve got some friends in high places, you know that, Thurmond Higgs?”

Higgs sat silently, not seeing any reason to respond to the clearly rhetorical question. He simply sat, hands folded in front of him at the table. His face showed no emotion as he looked the other man in the eye. He would accept his fate, whatever it was.

“I hate that you’re going to get away with this. You should know that I’ve got my eye on you, Higgs. Every step you take, each conversation you have, every moment of your life, we’ll have people watching you. I suggest you find a new place to call home.”

Higgs didn’t react visibly, but he responded calmly. “I’m afraid I don’t catch your meaning.”

“The charges have been dropped. You’re free to go.” The chief stood and walked toward the door. He stopped when he got to the doorway, then turned around slowly. “Oh, and this was left for you.”

The officer tossed an envelope, which landed on the table across from Higgs. He picked up the envelope and put it in his pocket. It was heavier than he expected. He followed a guard out of the prisoner block and into the police headquarters. He signed a few papers and then walked into the city, a free man again.

He breathed a deep breath, and for the first time in his life, the smell of the city seemed sweet and fragrant. Little had changed in his time in the jail. The abandoned skyscrapers still loomed overhead while plump, white airships carried passengers across the skyline. Smokestacks still pumped endless streams of smoke and steam into the air, keeping the economic engine of the city alive and thriving. He was certain that the city beneath the city functioned the same as always. He knew that he could never re-enter that society, not in this city, perhaps elsewhere.

He remembered the envelope in his pocket. He pulled it out and turned it over. The ornate letter L of the wax seal was not one that he knew offhand. He opened it and pulled out the paper inside. The note was short: Whatever the cost, it was worth it. Thank you, my friend. Box 38

There was a key in the envelope. He examined it, and noticed the Victorian Bank logo engraved on the side. He smiled as he walked across town toward the bank. Perhaps everything would work out for the best in the end.

TCB Part 45: Epilogue (Cont.)

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< Part 44

Gentle waves rocked the boat as it drifted lazily through the sapphire and crystal waters. The boat wasn’t heading anywhere, nor was it coming from anywhere. It was simply drifting. Its captain emerged from below decks and squinted in the bright Caribbean morning. He donned a pair of brass-rimmed sunglasses and breathed a deep breath of clean, fresh air. He let it out in a sigh of contentment. Life was good.

He raised the sail and prepared for a day of sailing. He checked his compass and his charts, fairly certain of where he was. Setting the heading for the Northwest, he sailed, toward an island called St. John. He spotted a settlement called John’s Folly that sounded like a good place to spend a few days. He was a man without a schedule, basking in the freedom afforded only to a man who’d died three months prior.

Phineas thought, as he often did, about Anabelle. How badly had he hurt her? Would she ever forgive him? Would it matter if she did? He didn’t plan to go back to the city again, so he doubted very much that he would ever see her again. He didn’t want to hurt her like that, but the only way his plan worked was if everybody believed him dead.

***

He had genuinely hoped they would get away without the ruse. But when he realized that the boat was about to sink, he made sure he was below decks. The commotion of the chase made everything so easy. The boat wasn’t fast enough to outrun the airship, but if he gave up the chase too quickly, they wouldn’t have sunk the boat. So he played around a bit, passing the boat back and forth under the airship. Clearly not giving up, the airship had no choice but to keep shooting, and the commotion kept Anabelle safely above decks.

When the cannonball hit the boiler, he knew it was over. If only Anabelle had listened, she could have made it away. He’d told her time after time that she needed to look out for herself. He supposed it was admirable that she didn’t abandon him. But it was downright foolish of her. He watched her get airlifted off the boat and he went to work.

He pulled the breathing apparatus out of his pocket. He knew it wouldn’t last long, with only a small tank of oxygen. He would need to conserve his energy. He looped his leg under a rail to make sure he sunk with the hull of the boat. As his head dipped under the muddy water, he slipped the device into his mouth and began to breathe very slowly, deliberately.

The boat sank slowly. Bubbles of air began to escape the bullet holes and cracks in the wood of the deck. The boat was carried downstream by the current as it dropped to the bottom. It finally hit bottom with a jolt and embedded itself into the thick mud of the riverbed. The turbulent waters calmed themselves, content with having swallowed the boat. A few remaining pockets of air leaked out slowly, bubbles dancing as they rose to the surface.

He calmed his mind, resisting the instinctive urge to swim to the surface. The world around him was dark and brown, with streams of light cutting through the water from the surface. Ripples within the beams hinted at the turmoil above. Slowly, he breathed, relaxed. He had hoped that Anabelle would be safe. He didn’t want her hurt in any way. He would be doing enough damage with his stunt; he prayed that the authorities didn’t make it worse.

The world beneath the surface of the water was peaceful. Dark water drifted past his face, the cold felt like tiny needles on his skin. A stream of warm would pass as the boiler continued to heat the water as it cooled. Slowly, he breathed, meditating on his freedom. He drifted in and out of a trance, biding his time. Montebanque had told him the cylinder would last 10 minutes, but he stretched it to 15 by keeping himself under control.

The breathing got more difficult as the cylinder emptied. He unhooked his leg, took a handful of gold coins from the sack in the control room, and swam to the surface. He breached the surface and looked around at his surroundings. He allowed the current to carry him downstream as he oriented himself. Upstream, he could see the faint outline of the city skyline. No sign could be seen of the airship that had come for them.

“Goodbye Anabelle. I pray you will be treated well.” He muttered to himself as he swam to the bank of the river. He spotted a farm not far from the bank. He made his way to the barn, hoping to be able to dry off and warm up. The cold water had chilled him to the bone, numbing his feet and hands. But now the sun was warming him as he moved, thawing his sluggish limbs. He would need to lie low for a few days while he developed a plan.

He headed to a small town, not far from the city, where he bought a new tuxedo and hat. He shaved off his characteristic mustache and hair, hoping to eliminate any chance of being spotted. Pulling a pollution mask over his face, he got on a train. It was the very same route as the one they had robbed. The irony was not lost on Phineas as he chuckled to himself in the dining car.

Once in the city, he made quick work of gathering as much of his stashed gold as possible. If they had gotten to Anabelle, he was sure the others wouldn’t be far behind. He purchased a used steam-lorry from the dealership at the edge of town and drove it to the various banks across the city. At each place, he unloaded his stash into the truck. He was thankful for the privacy afforded the banks’ customers, especially in light of the recent events. Nobody asked why he was withdrawing his gold, they all asumed that he was spooked, and no doubt would be back in a few weeks when it blows over. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

Even still, he couldn’t resist asking the question. “I’ve been out of town for a few days. Can you tell me what came of those scoundrels that robbed the Lester train?” He asked the attendant at one of the banks.

The attendant smiled at the masked man, “Yes. The news is that they have all been caught and are being held for trial. Though I believe there was one chap killed in the chase.”

“Serves those cursed fools right, if you ask me.” He couldn’t resist an artistic flourish. He tipped his hat and walked out of the bank. Seated at the driver’s seat of his steamer, he fired up the boiler and drove out of the city, headed for the coast.

***

He steered his sailboat toward John’s Folly, nothing but open water in front of him. This was what true freedom felt like. He would never again worry about money, never need to toil for food. Yet, it was bittersweet for him. He was lonely. He made friends easily at each port. But each time, he moved on to another, never satisfied to sit still. It was as if he was afraid that his history would catch up with him. Every beautiful woman brought him visions of Belle, and each port held reminders of the city he’d left behind. It pained him that he would never see the city he loved again, would never have a chance to hold Belle again. For everything, there is a price to pay. For Phineas, he lost a city and a love. Only time would tell if it was worth the price.

Part 46 >

TCB Part 44: Epilogue: Three Months Hence

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< Part 43

Epilogue: Three Months Hence

Anabelle pulled her hair back and tied it with a simple piece of yarn. She had done her hair this way every day since she’d been taken into custody. There was no point in putting up appearances anymore. Nobody here was going to be impressed by her beauty. Nobody here would give her gifts or offer favors for the privilege of being near her.

She hated to admit, but Phineas had been right. She did treat it all as a game before. Now she could finally see how wrong she’d been. There were places in the world where a simple smile or bat of the eyelashes couldn’t get her what she wanted. No matter how self-aware she had been, she could never be prepared for life as an imprisoned woman.

She’d gotten off easy. Most woman criminals were sent to ladies prisons. She’d never seen such a place, but she knew that the male guards were not kind to their prisoners. She shuddered to think of the way she would have been treated. In a final act of pseudo-gallantry, Everton had lobbied for her to be assigned work duty. Since then, she’d been working in the laundry at a Traditionalist school. It was hard work and her hands would never be the same again. But she was thankful every day that she could return to her room and feel safe at night.

She finished her twelve hour shift and showered and was preparing herself for bed. She sat at the small table and looked into the tiny mirror on the wall. She had to look hard to see the beautiful woman there. Once that had been all that she was, now she struggled to recognize that person in the face looking back from the mirror.

She looked herself in the eye. Those eyes had seen too many tears these months since the accident. She had known what love was for too short a time, and it was ripped away from her in the worst possible way. She cried for Phineas for hours on end. It wasn’t until recently that she’d learned to remember him fondly.

She looked at her hand, where she still wore the small ring with the fake diamond. She wondered how her life would be different if she’d listened to him, swam to the shore and let him drown. He would be gone either way, but she would be free. She refused to admit that he was right about that. She had to prove to him that a person could be genuinely kind to another, even without personal gain. She still believed that she was right, but at the cost of her freedom.

She looked down and noticed a small package wrapped in paper. When had that gotten here? It must have been left here while she was on her shift. She untied the twine and opened the small box. Inside was a small device. It had a broad tube on one end, connected by brass valves and tubes to a small pressurized cylinder. There was a note in the box with it. It read: Everybody’s looking out for himself, Anabelle.

She was hit by a flood of emotions. All this time, she’d mourned the loss of the man she thought she loved. Now this package arrives that seems to suggest that he’s not gone. She didn’t know whether to feel elated or enraged. He’d betrayed her, made her believe he was dead, threw her into depression and grief. And what for? So he could get away. Yet, he had warned her. He’d as much as told her he would do something like that, but it didn’t help lessen the blow.

In the end, she had her chance to get away. She chose loyalty over freedom, and paid the price for that decision. Was it worth it? At the moment, she wasn’t willing to answer that question.

Part 45 >

TCB Part 43: Sunday Afternoon (Cont)

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< Part 42

Montgomery practically ran through the halls of the hospital. He nearly collided with a patient on a gurney as he slid around a corner. “Where is Charlotte Avalon?” he shouted to anyone who cared to hear him. A nurse pointed toward a room near the end of the hallway. A Traditionalist guard was standing outside the door gripping a rifle menacingly.

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you go in there.”

Montgomery glared at the soldier. “Son, do you have any idea who I am?”

The soldier shifted nervously, “Yes Sir, Mr. Lester, Sir. I am under strict orders not to allow any non-medical staff to enter this room.”

“Tell me, soldier: Do you know who provided the endowment for this hospital?”

“No, Sir.”

“My father’s foundation did, and he received a trustee designation in return. A title that has passed to me. So you’re going to let me in the room.”

The soldier was even more nervous now. “I’m very sorry sir. I can’t do that. The orders were quite clear, and did not make any allowance for a trustee.”

“You are a good soldier, son. You follow orders well. Do you know who is in that room?”

“No sir.”

“It’s a thief. You are here because she stole a great deal of money. She stole it from me.” Montgomery was getting impatient and angry. “You wear a uniform that represents a movement made possible by my family. You are standing in a hospital built by my family. You are guarding a room containing a thief who stole from me. Now understand that I’ve already wasted more time talking to you than I have to spare. I’m going into that room. If you have to shoot me, so be it. But you’ll be the one who has to explain to your superior why you just shot Montgomery Lester. I don’t think you want to be famous in that way, do you soldier?”

The soldier said nothing in response. He merely stood tall and continued clutching his rifle. Montgomery walked past him and into the room without incident. Once inside, he saw a young woman lying on a hospital bed. One leg was cast in plaster and suspended from the ceiling by a cable. Her face was bruised, with one eye badly swollen shut. The other eye looked ok but was, at present, closed peacefully. At the sight of her short, blonde curls, he began to feel emotion well up in his chest. 

Her good eye opened and blinked a few times. She scanned the room slowly before settling on Montgomery’s face. Her eyes were the same piercing blue as Alice’s. The resemblance was striking, and brought him to tears. Here she was, his daughter, his connection to the woman he’d loved.

“Hi.” She said. “You’re not a doctor, are you?”

He shook his head, unable to say more. He walked over to her bedside and put a hand on her shoulder. He touched his daughter for the first time. He felt a thrill travel up his arm and down his spine. Could this be real?

“Hey, I recognize you.” Charlotte said weakly, under the influence of some sedative that no doubt dulled the considerable pain. Then she laughed softly. “You’re that businessman. Lester, right?”

“Yes, that’s right, Charlotte.” He replied, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Look, I’m real sorry about the train. It was too good to pass up.”

“Don’t worry about the train.”

“Oh good.” She said quietly, smiling. “I spent some of it on a pretty dress, I’m sure you can sell it back to the shop.”

Montgomery smiled at his daughter. “Keep the dress.”

“Thanks, Mr. Lester. You’re being awful nice about this.” She blinked and reached for a cup of water at her bedside. She took a sip and set the glass back on the table. “Honestly, it was a lot of fun. Even if I don’t get to keep the money, it was worth it.”

“Yes, Charlotte, it was worth it.” He squeezed her shoulder, hoping he did not hurt her. “Charlotte, I need to tell you something very important.”

“Shoot.” She replied, giggling quietly.

Montgomery suspected her silliness was the effect of whatever drug was keeping her pain at bay. Then again, he didn’t know what she was like normally, he was meeting her for the first time. He reflected that it was a shame that he couldn’t do this when she was more lucid and could better grasp the importance of what he was about to say. He couldn’t wait any longer, she had to know.

“Charlotte, do you ever wonder about your parents?”

“Wow, this conversation got serious in a hurry.” It seemed to Montgomery that she had snapped out of whatever stupor she had been under. “Sure, I’ve wondered what happened to them. But you know, most of the kids at my school were there because their parents were arrested. I just assumed the same.”

“Well, you’re partly right.” He took a seat on the edge of her bed. “Your mother was arrested as a Technologist.”

“Huh…” Charlotte replied. “I’d always assumed that, but I never realized just how it would feel to know for sure.”

“But your mother was not some kind of criminal or terrorist. She believed in her cause, but she didn’t believe in violence as a means to accomplish it. She was arrested and imprisoned. Your mother was a young, beautiful woman; full of life. She lived every day to the fullest, and wasn’t afraid to stick her neck out if she thought it would do some good.”

Charlotte smiled. “Sounds like I would have liked her.”

Montgomery felt himself tearing up at the thought of Alice. “I think you would have. Her name was Alice Clarke. She died of a virus shortly after you were born.”

Charlotte wasn’t sad at that news; she just continued to stare into the distance in thought. Montgomery was disappointed at that reaction. He wanted her to mourn with him over the loss of Alice. But for Charlotte it was no loss. She’d never had her mother, so she would never mourn the loss. She looked up at him. “What about my dad, I suppose he was a handsome and brave freedom fighter like my mom?”

Montgomery shook his head. “No. Your father was a coward. He could have saved your mother and didn’t. He didn’t stand for anything, didn’t love an idea like your mother. In the end, he loved his status more than your mother. He’s had to live with that knowledge his whole life, and it’s robbed him of his soul. It wasn’t until later, when he couldn’t do anything about it that he realized how he’d been such a fool.”

Charlotte seemed sad. She looked down at her leg, propped up into the air. She slowly turned to make eye contact with Montgomery. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

Montgomery nodded, tears running down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I’m sorry for all you’ve been through. I’m sorry that you’ve had to live your life without knowing who you are. Most of all, I’m sorry for letting your mother be taken away from me. I lost a wife and a daughter that day, but you lost even more. I would do anything, give everything I have, if I thought that I could make it up to you.”

“Don’t be guilty, Mister. You did what you thought was right at the time. Ok, so you were wrong. But you can’t live the rest of your life regretting it. I mean, I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff; a LOT of stupid stuff. Some of it ended up hurting pretty bad.” She pointed at the cast on her leg. “But if I stopped taking risks, I wouldn’t enjoy the life I’ve got left. You could die tomorrow, you know. When I speak at your funeral, do you really want me to say that I met you for the first time, and you spent the rest of our time together groveling and apologizing?”

Montgomery laughed through the tears. “I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know you, Charlotte. There’s a smart, beautiful young woman in there, and I can’t wait to learn about her.”

Charlotte put out her arms to Montgomery and he leaned in to hug her. A shiver radiated from the back of his neck and through his body as he hugged his daughter for the first time, thirty years too late.

Part 44 >

TCB Part 42: Sunday Afternoon (cont)

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< Part 41

Montgomery opened the cover of the book. “Technologist Detainment Log: Year 4, Book 3” was printed boldly on the first page, followed by a list of the people responsible for maintaining this particular record book. He paged through until he reached the index. He ran his finger down the list of names written here. Each name he read sent a shiver down his spine. There was a small part of him that wanted to be wrong, wanted to never find her name in this list. He would go back to never knowing what happened to her.

His finger stopped in the middle of the second page of the index. Clarke, Alice L. His vision blurred, the world seemed to tremble around him. That was her; the remainder of her life’s story began on page 147. His stomach turned itself in knots and he had to will himself to flip through to the right page. There was her name, in bold on the top of the page.

Clarke, Alice M.

Captured:            July 9, 4

                                Sector 95.3.a

Subject was captured peacefully in a cottage where she was living. No struggle was made, and subject was taken into custody. No items of value found in cottage. Home was burned. Anonymous tip was received on the evening of July 8, from a reliable source. Source’s information proved true. Source refused monetary reward.

Transported:      Camp Victory, July 11, 4

Subject was held two nights in local prison before relocation to Camp Victory for permanent assignment. Subject assigned to arms manufacturing facility, Bullet Assembly, Line 9, Section 4.

Psychological:    Evaluated, July 24, 4

Subject was said to be in good spirits upon arrival. Did not offer any information about connections within Technologist circles. Subject did not respond well under hypnotism. Hypnotic responses were mumbled, repeated “monkey” or “monty” or “money.” It is not clear what, if any, significance this has. Full Psychological report is contained in Medical Records file 15024.352.31

Medical:               Evaluated, July 12, 4

Subject was examined by Dr. Florence upon arrival at camp. Subject was found to be healthy. No infectious diseases were found, and no quarantine was required. Deemed unsuitable for medical testing due to first trimester pregnancy. Subject was referred to maternity barracks for monitoring. Reassigned to textile mill to avoid lead contact.

Narrative:            Lawrence Stromvald, Director, Camp Victory

Alice was a model prisoner. She was cooperative with the guards and worksite managers. She did not resist medical or psychological evaluations. She did not participate in the several prisoner uprisings during her tenure at my camp. By all accounts, she seemed to respond well to re-education programs. It was as if she desperately wanted to get out of the camp, perhaps motivated to be reunited to the father of her child. She never revealed the identity of the father, though it should be noted that she was adamant that he was not a Technologist. It is uncertain whether she was candid with this information. She seemed to have great hope for parole at some future date. Sadly, she did not have that opportunity. She took ill with influenza shortly after the birth of her daughter. She did not respond well to the separation from her daughter. It was as if she had lost the will to live. She died on April 18, 5.

Next of Kin:        Daughter. Father unknown.

Daughter was separated from subject at birth. Transported to Avalon Orphanage. At date of publication, no adopted family was found. Demand for adopted girls is very low, so adoption is unlikely. Child’s name: Charlotte, assigned at orphanage per standard practice.

Montgomery sat, stunned. Tears welled up in his eyes. His beloved Alice was dead. He suspected it for a long time, but seeing the words made it all so true. She was too young. He loved her too much. It was his fault. He had not had the courage to stop his father, who he knew was the anonymous tipster. He didn’t tell him that they were married, though he didn’t know if that would have made any difference.

She was gone. She was doing everything she could to be with him again. The report was clear about that. She wanted to get out of the camp to be with him. She did everything right. It was completely unlike her to be so compliant; completely unlike anything he had seen of her since they had met. She did everything in her power to be with him again, but he had failed her.

In the fog of his emotions, he hadn’t fully comprehended what he had read. He went back a second time. This time, he took full notice of the medical evaluation. She was pregnant! A lot of Technologist women had babies in captivity, whether from love or cruelty. But she was pregnant when she arrived. He had a daughter!

He read the name of his daughter again. Charlotte. It was a beautiful name. He wondered if she was ever adopted. He suspected she hadn’t been. If he had known at the time, he could have adopted her himself. Why hadn’t he tried to find Alice earlier? He was too much of a coward to find Alice at the time. Too much of a coward to learn about Charlotte when he could have still done something about it. He was stricken with grief once again for the daughter he never had.

If she wasn’t adopted, he knew that when she became an adult, she would be released from the Orphanage. Her last name would be registered as the name of the Orphanage, which she could choose to change if she wanted. Charlotte Avalon. The name was so familiar. He looked down at the sheet of paper that Hawke had left him.

Charlotte Avalon, injured, under surveillance at Memorial Hospital.

He nearly leapt from his seat and rushed out the door. He rang the chauffeur and ran down to the garage. He’d wasted 30 years without knowing his daughter. Today, he would meet her for the first time.

Part 43 >

TCB Part 41: Sunday Afternoon (cont.)

Go to the Beginning of the story

< Part 40

In the previous installment:

Montgomery Lester reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a battered leather-bound book. The cover, which had once been red was now battered and faded to a pale brown. There was a deep gash across the front cover, and corners were dented and bent. ARCHIVES was written in block letters on the front. He ran a hand over the cover, and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes once again. This book contained the one thing that he would have given his entire fortune to find. That a man had died for this book was bittersweet for him. 

He couldn’t bear to open it. The thought of what he might learn was almost too much to bear. He placed his hand on the cover and thought back to thirty years earlier.

***

Young Montgomery was 24 years old. He was in his final year at the university. He sat in the library, trying to study for his last exam. But he couldn’t focus on the books in front of him, because the woman across the library was a much more interesting thing on which to focus. Her blonde curls seemed to dance about her shoulders as she scanned the pages of a text. She was sitting at a table strewn with books, much like Montgomery’s. Each time he tried to concentrate on his studies, he found his eyes wandering up to see if she was still there.

Their eyes met for a moment. She smiled at him. She didn’t look away in embarrassment. She didn’t pretend it was an accident. She only smiled. Montgomery couldn’t tear his gaze away. He was captivated by her. He hoped his jaw hadn’t dropped to the table. Then she did something completely unexpected.

She stood up. She walked toward Montgomery’s table, still smiling, eyes locked on his. His heart beat faster, he felt his legs turn to gelatin. She walked with purpose and grace toward him. When she was a few steps away, she put out her hand toward Montgomery.

“I’m Alice Clarke.” Montgomery could have sworn it was the voice of an angel.

“M-m-montgomery,” was all he could get out. He sounded like such a fool.

“Lester. Yes, I know who you are. What’s more…I don’t care who you are.”

“Excuse me?” Montgomery asked, stunned out of his stupor by her forwardness.

“I mean that I don’t care that you’re Montgomery Lester, the son of the most powerful man in the country. I think you’re cute, and I’d like to have a cup of coffee with you.” She smiled again, eyes locked on his.

They talked for hours over coffee, then dinner, dessert, and drinks. They talked so long that Montgomery had lost track of the time. It was 2 am before they knew it, and the restaurant was kicking them out. When they talked, it was like nothing else mattered. He looked into Alice’s eyes and saw more than he’d ever seen in a woman. He walked her home that night and kissed her at her doorstep. At the moment when his lips met hers, it was like a thrill of electricity that shot from his head to his feet. He knew then and there that there was nothing that could keep him from spending the rest of his life with this incredible woman.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he learned of her true passion: Technology. It was the one thing that could prevent them from being together. It was the one thing that his father would absolutely forbid. He wept for days that he would lose his true love because of the war that would define their generation. He began to hate the Traditionalist movement because it would ultimately keep him from being with Alice.

Even worse was that Alice knew all along. For Montgomery, her allegiance was a surprise, but she knew who he was from the start. She knew that his father was the patron of everything that she fought against. She knew that Montgomery would have to make the choice between her and his family. It was a choice no man should have to make. It was the hardest choice of his life. No matter what he chose, he could not possibly be right.

He chose Alice. He told her that he knew that his father would hate him. He would be disowned. He would never show his face in public again. The war’s ultimate result was clear. The Technologists had been defeated, and it was only the cleanup remaining for the Traditionalists to complete their revolution.

But he wanted it all. He didn’t want to give up the company, his family, his wealth. He chose a life where he could never be open about who he loved.

They were married in secret, so that Montgomery’s father would never know. He would visit her under cover of darkness, sneaking in and out of the home so that his father and staff wouldn’t see him. He would go to her in the cottage he had bought for her. He loved being with her. He loved everything about her. Everything except her secret, the thing that kept her in hiding, the thing that kept her from taking his name.

He hated that secret. He hated that he couldn’t tell his father about his lover. He hated that he couldn’t take her to social gatherings, that he had to tolerate the women that were paraded in front of him hoping to be his wife. They were all inferior to Alice. None of them could be his wife, that job was already filled.

Then one day, he came home from Alice’s cottage and found his father in his bedroom. He was sitting at Montgomery’s desk, a box of letters strewn across the desk. He recognized them at once.

“Who is Alice?” his father asked.

“A woman.” Montgomery replied, afraid of what his father might do.

“Do you love her?” he asked

“I do.” Montgomery responded.

“You’re going to have to learn to forget her, son. I can’t believe how foolish my son is. I raised you better than to be with some filthy Digit woman. This can never see the light of day.”

Montgomery couldn’t bear to tell him that she was his wife. He feared for what his father would do if he had. He was too weak to tell him, too cowardly to try to protect his love. When his father had gone, he sat at his desk, strewn with love letters, and sobbed for hours.

The next day, he went to the cottage to warn Alice. She was gone. The cottage was gone, burned to the ground. Alice was gone. He cried out for his love, the woman he called wife. He couldn’t protect her from his father’s goons. He didn’t even try. He blamed himself for this. He hoped she was dead, that would be better than what would happen if she was captured alive.

He did as his father said and tried to forget her. He tried to love other women, but each time, he couldn’t bear to look in their eyes. They lacked Alice’s spirit. No woman would ever be Alice to him. Eventually, he gave up, focused his life on his work as a way to forget. He was good at his work. When his father died and passed the company to him, he ran it better than his father could ever have dreamed. Under his leadership, the company underwent a revolution that would see him exceed his father’s power and wealth tenfold and more.

Yet, there was a hole in his life left by Alice. He started to search for her. He needed to know what happened to her. Had she been taken alive? Had she been imprisoned? Executed? For a long time, he didn’t want to know. But now he had to know. He couldn’t be ignorant any longer. He had to find what happened to his love.

The difficulty, he found was that he couldn’t search the records. He had access to anything he wanted, but not without question. If he went to the archives to look for what happened to a single anonymous Digit woman, it wouldn’t take long before they would discover why. That would be the end of his reputation. He would forever be known as a sympathizer, he would be lucky if they didn’t lock him up himself.

He spent time scanning every index that he could without drawing suspicion. Over time, a picture began to shape itself. He would find a mention of her name here or there. He found an accounting of her role in the Technologist resistance, a role that he was sad to discover was bigger than he had ever known. Then he found the key.

Records were kept of every Technologist captured and their eventual disposition. He identified the exact book that contained that record for Alice. Then he waited. Until one day, he learned that the record books were to be moved to his city, for enshrining in an archive of the revolution. He made his move.

As always, he had to avoid being discovered looking for Alice. Even though he had full access to the train carrying the book, he had to shift the focus on someone else. He had to make sure that nobody was looking at him when the book went missing. No expense was too great for him to get his hands on that book.

Part 42 >

TCB Part 40: Chapter 14: Sunday Afternoon

Go to the Beginning of the story

< Part 39

Archives: A letter to my son (cont.)

…It is to you, dear son, that I owe an apology. I cannot even speak of what I did, but if you have thought of that day as often as I have, you know of what I speak. I have been haunted by the guilt of what I did to you those years ago. You deserved better than how I treated you, and I am sorry. I hope that in time, you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how I wronged you.

I am ready to die, but I am deeply saddened that I will not be able to see what wondrous things you will accomplish for this world. I could not be more proud of the man you have become, and I rest with full confidence that you will accomplish greater things for this world than I could ever have dreamed. The Lester name could not rest upon a better set of shoulders than yours. Thank you for the privilege of calling you “son.”

Your father

Alistair Lester

Chapter 14: Sunday Afternoon

Montgomery Lester sat in his living room across from the private investigator he’d hired to find the thieves that had hijacked his train. He was impatient. He usually spent his Sundays relaxing, reading, avoiding work as much as possible. He took a sip of hot tea hoping to calm his nerves.

“How is the investigation going?”

“It is complete. The entire team of thieves has been captured. One was killed.”

That news was bittersweet to Lester. His heart ached at the thought that someone was killed, even a criminal such as this man. “Tell me who these people were. What did they want?”

“It seems they were only after money. The only other thing missing from the trains was a record book from the early revolution. It’s not clear why they took that. The rest was gold and valuables. The team was quite diverse. Charlotte Avalon, the airbike racer, was the first to be caught, she was injured in a car crash on Friday. After her, we captured the inventor, Dr. Everton L. Montebanque. I was able to turn Dr. Montebanque into an ally to capture the rest. We then apprehended Kostas Stavraki, a burglar and explosives expert. From there, we traced two of the thieves who were escaping the city together on a small yacht. Anabelle Devereaux, a well-known socialite, was pulled off the boat into our airship. Her companion, the bookmaker Phineas Derbyshire perished in the chase. The final member of the team, the ringleader, was captured this morning. His name is Thurmond Higgs.”

Montgomery took note of the names. Miss Devereaux and Mr. Derbyshire were both known to him, though he’d never met them. Miss Avalon’s name rang a bell as well. “And what about the valuables? Were those recovered?”

“Some. Not all. We’ve been able to recover about 2/3 of it so far. We’re hoping to find more soon, but we know that some was lost in the exchange with Derbyshire. Some was spent before we could do anything about it.”

Montgomery nodded. “It is as good as I could have expected. I’ll need to cover what losses were not recovered. I appreciate your effort to continue the recovery. Thank you for all your work, Mr. Hawke.”

Montgomery opened a box, and pulled out a small bag of gold coins. He handed them to the investigator. “Your fee. I have added some, since you worked so quickly.”

Montgomery stood and saw Hawke out of the house. He locked the door as the investigator left. He went to sit at his desk. He looked over the list left by Hawke, reflected on the people who had somehow broken into his train while it was travelling faster than any train had before. He couldn’t help but be impressed at their ability to pull it off. He wondered if it was worth the cost.

He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a battered leather-bound book. The cover, which had once been red was now battered and faded to a pale brown. There was a deep gash across the front cover, and corners were dented and bent. ARCHIVES was written in block letters on the front. He ran a hand over the cover, and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes once again. This book contained the one thing that he would have given his entire fortune to find. That a man had died for this book was bittersweet for him. 

He couldn’t bear to open it. The thought of what he might learn was almost too much to bear. He placed his hand on the cover and thought back to thirty years earlier.

Part 41 >

TCB Part 39: Sunday Still (Cont.)

Go to the Beginning of the story

< Part 38

Higgs was feeling tense. “If it makes you feel better, I couldn’t find it again if I tried. If you want to help me find my way back to the surface, you can trust me to keep my mouth shut about this place.”

The bearded man squinted at Higgs, sizing him up. His eye caught on the bag that he was carrying. “What’s in that bag?”

Higgs knew his face gave him away immediately upon mention of the bag. He had almost forgotten about the bag. “It’s yours if you can set me free.”

The bearded man laughed. “It’s mine whether or not I set you free.” He pulled it away from Higgs and it fell loudly to the floor with a thud. He opened it and looked inside and let out a loud laugh. “Where on earth did you get this stuff?”

“I stole it, from a train, with the help of Dr. Montebanque. He was going to meet me here, is he here?”

“Look, pal. We haven’t seen Everton down here for a long time. He went straight, and as far as I’m concerned, he was always a Vickie at heart. So dropping his name isn’t going to do you any favors. If he told you that you would be welcomed here with open arms, he was either lying or he has a terribly bad memory of the way he left.”

Higgs nodded. He wasn’t surprised. He regretted listening to the inventor in the first place. He wasn’t going to die in a tunnel, which was an improvement. He couldn’t stay here. He clearly wasn’t welcome, and he wasn’t a believer in their movement. But he couldn’t see any way that they would let him leave without a hassle.

The bearded man spoke again. “But I don’t see any reason why we should hold this against you. You aren’t one of us, but that bag tells me you’re not one of them either. Sit tight. I’ll be back.” He carried the bag away as he left.

Higgs took a plastic bottle from a young girl with pigtails and a nervous smile. Higgs smiled back at her. He must look like some kind of strange monster to her. She was from a completely different world than he was. He suspected she’d never seen the surface of the city, living her entire life underground in this Technologist compound beneath the city.

He recognized just how similar he was to these people. Their aims were different, but they both inhabited the spaces beneath the society that had rejected them. Higgs wasn’t a fighter for a cause like these people, which made him feel much less noble than they were. These people hoped for something that may never be a reality, but at least they had a hope. Higgs was a thief; there was no honor in that.

He looked over the bottle that the girl had brought him. He took a drink from it. The water was cleaner than he was used to. The bottle itself was amazing to him. He hadn’t seen any plastics since he was very young. The world had changed a great deal since then. He didn’t often judge whether the change was good or bad, it’s just how things were. These people didn’t agree. To them, the change was bad, and they fought to change it back. There was nothing that Higgs believed in so strongly that he could give up everything to fight for it. Even the money that he had stolen from the train wasn’t worth his life or his freedom.

Suddenly he felt the entire room vibrate. He heard a dull explosion. The rail tunnel that he arrived in had been raised back into the ceiling after he exited. Now he saw the ceiling above that spot crumbling. Dust billowed out into the room from there. As the dust cleared, several pairs of feet dropped through the hole into the brightly lit room.

“Everybody put your hands up,” a voice was heard shouting over the commotion of scrambling Technologists. “We’re not here for you, so if you cooperate, this will be fast.”

Higgs couldn’t make out the people who had dropped into the room, the dust around them was still too thick. He saw the Technologist with the beard come around a doorway wielding a large rifle. He shouted at the men who had dropped in, “Why should we trust you?”

“Fine, don’t trust me, just don’t shoot me,” The visitor said, “but we’ll be gone in just a minute. We’ve come for Thurmond Higgs.”

This was an unfortunate turn of events for Higgs. Not only was he caught, he was caught in a Technologist stronghold. Certainly, this would not end well. The group of strangers walked out of the cloud of dust. The first person Higgs saw was the man in the dark coat and hat that he’d spotted at Kostas’s the previous night. Walking behind him was Dr. Montebanque, a smug look on his face.

Higgs scowled at Dr. Montebanque. “Everton, I had assumed you tricked me, but I never thought you would betray me.”

“I had little choice, Thurmond.” Dr. Montebanque replied coldly. “It was my only way to avoid being labeled a Digit.”

“Well, since I’m sitting in a Technologist stronghold at your direction, it appears the label would be appropriate.”

“Hardly, I haven’t been involved with these scoundrels in years.”

At that comment, the bearded man bristled and glared at Everton.

“I can only assume you betrayed Kostas as well then? And the others?”

“Yes, he has been captured.” Everton said, expressionless. “Charlotte was in an accident and was captured before I was caught. Anabelle and Phineas had run off together. They were stopped on the river trying to cruise out of town.” Everton looked away, afraid to tell Higgs anything more.

“So you’ve betrayed us all, Everton. You weak fool. You’re lucky nobody was killed, or their lives would be on your hands.” Higgs stared Dr. Montebanque in the eye, refusing to look away as the inventor’s eyes darted around the room nervously.

“That’s not entirely true.” Everton replied. “Phineas drowned in the operation to capture them.”

At that, Higgs was on his feet and rushing toward Everton, shouting “Murderer!” He swung and hit the older man in the gut. Everton doubled over and gasped loudly for his breath. Higgs swung again, hitting Everton squarely in the jaw with a satisfying crack. He reached back to take another swing and his arm was caught by one of the other men that had dropped into the room with Dr. Montebanque. Another man came around and held his other arm. He struggled against their strong grips, hoping to get just one more swing in.

The man in the dark coat and hat approached, putting a hand on Everton’s shoulder. The inventor struggled to catch his breath and tenderly rubbed his bruised jaw. The darkly dressed man stepped toward Higgs. “Hello Thurmond Higgs, my name is Jason Hawke. It seems that this is not our first encounter.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to you.” Higgs spat, the full emotion of hearing of his friend’s death was starting to hit him with something between anger and grief. He stopped trying to wrest his hands from the other men, seeing no point in further struggle. He continued to glare at Everton with a look that could cut glass.

The bearded man walked to Everton, standing taller than he was. His look was similar to Higgs’s, glaring anger evident on his face. “You’ve endangered this place, Everton. You’ve betrayed more than your friends today.”

“You’ve got Mr. Hawke’s word. He’s not here for you.”

“And you think that means anything? The bounty on finding us is hefty to say the least.”

“He’ll never find his way back here, anyway. We came the long way, same as the way I sent Higgs.”

The bearded man looked at Hawke. “If you return, you’d better bring a small army. We will fight without mercy.”

“I assure you, I won’t be back. This isn’t my fight.” Hawke put a hand out and shook the bearded man’s hand.

At that, Higgs was led to the tunnel section that had been lowered into the fortress. They stood while it was raised back to the tunnel above for their long journey to the surface.

Part 40 >

TCB Part 38: Chapter 13: Sunday Still

Go to the Beginning of the story

< Part 37

Chapter 13: Sunday still

Higgs had spent the night wandering tunnels. His bag was overloaded with as much gold and valuables as he could carry. He was growing tired of walking, and wasn’t sure how much further he could go. He shook his kerosene flashlight. There was a slight sloshing, but he didn’t expect it to last more than another hour. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking, but it felt like hours. His eyes ached from lack of sleep and trying to make out details in the darkness of the city’s tunnel system.

He sat down on the edge of a doorway. He shined the light on the makeshift map that Everton had hastily drawn for him the night before. He was trusting these directions far more than he ought. For all he knew, Everton was sending him to get lost. If his light ran out, he would never find his way out of these tunnels in the dark. He had no idea where he was in the city. His only hope was to emerge into a station and find his way to the surface.

  He found the point where he believed he was on the map. If it was true and he didn’t make any wrong turns, he was quite close to his destination. He stood up. His feet and back ached from lugging the heavy bag of gold, step after step along the uneven rail bed. He wearily picked up the bag and set it gingerly on his shoulder. He willed himself to take the first step forward. He could only hope that he found something before his flashlight ran out of fuel.

After another half hour of walking and two intersections in the tunnel, he finally found what he hoped was Everton’s fabled hideaway. The tunnel continued endlessly ahead, but he saw the symbol on the wall that Everton said would indicate the entrance. It was some kind of lightning bolt symbol. Something Higgs had never seen before. He shined his flashlight around, but couldn’t find any kind of door. He hadn’t been told what to do when he got here.

“Hello?” he said weakly. “Is there anybody here?”

He waited, but heard no response. Now he was certain that he’d been misled. His kerosene light flickered. He gave it a shake and the light brightened momentarily. He tried again. “Hello? Everton Montebanque sent me here.”

Still nothing in response. Higgs leaned against the wall of the tunnel and allowed himself to collapse. The release of pressure from his feet and back felt good. His light flickered again, then went out. So that was it. He was stuck in a tunnel, without a light, with no way to get out. He would die here of starvation or dehydration or something like that.

He blinked, hoping that there would be some source of light somewhere that would cast enough for him to see the faintest outline of a shape somewhere in the tunnel. There was nothing. This tunnel was utterly black. He shouted down the tunnel, “Curse you, Dr. Everton L. Montebanque!” He laughed loudly at his foolishness.

His laughing was cut off in an instant as he was blinded by a light so sudden and bright, it overpowered his dilated eyes. He covered his eyes with his hands and let out a wail of agony. The ground below him began to vibrate and he felt as if he were falling. That was it, he was going insane. It happened faster than he expected.

The vibration stopped and now he could hear voices. He opened his eyes, squinting in the light that was still too bright. He saw person-shaped blurs moving around him, some were holding weapon-shaped blurs. He blinked until his vision began to clear. Red spots were still dancing at the edge of his vision, and he felt an overriding sense of vertigo. He held his hands up in the air to show that he was not dangerous.

The people crowded around him and hoisted him to his feet. The tunnel where he had been sitting was the same, but at either end was open space, lit with bright, steady daylight. He was led out of the tunnel into the bright lights. He still wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t dead, but he was beginning to get a better picture that he most likely was not.

He was lowered onto some sort of soft couch. He blinked a few more times to clear his vision. The picture of his surroundings became clearer. He was not, as he had previously assumed, at the surface. The light was steady, and appeared to be daylight, but it seemed to be coming from some kind of lamps installed into the ceiling of a stark concrete room. In front of him was a bank of what he could only describe as light panels. Colored lights and shapes danced across the panels.

People sat in front of these panels with what looked like the keyboard from a typewriter in front of them. He came to the slow realization that he was looking at a computer. Higgs had been a child when the Traditionalists outlawed technology, and even then hadn’t really seen one of the devices in person.  This place must be a Technologist hideout. That realization did not make him any more comfortable than he had been when he was dying in a rail tunnel.

A man approached from across the room. He wore corrective lenses and a thick beard. He stood in front of Higgs and looked at him, a clear look of displeasure on his face. “Who are you?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“My name is Thurmond Higgs. Dr. Everton L. Montebanque sent me here.” Higgs continued to blink too much as his eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh lighting.

“You don’t belong here. This place is not for your kind.” The bearded man said, clearly unhappy.

“I’m very sorry.” Higgs replied, clearly at a disadvantage in this place. “I didn’t know where I was going, I only followed Everton’s directions.”

“Then it appears that Dr. Montebanque has given you some very ill-advised directions.”

Part 39 >

TCB Part 37: Sunurday Morning (Cont.)

Go to the Beginning of the story

< Part 36

A few hours on the river had refreshed Anabelle’s soul. She had spent most of that time watching the water drift past, breathing the clean, fresh air. It was freeing to be able to just sail away without any cares or worries. They didn’t know where they were going, and Anabelle didn’t much care.

Twenty minutes into the trip, they had left the edge of the city. They travelled through mile after mile of farmland. She sat and waved at farmers, never taking a moment’s rest, laboring away in their fields. She watched the forest go by. They passed under a rail bridge. No, THE rail bridge. It brought back the memories of the tense heist only a few days earlier. She thought about how close it had been to all going wrong. But she worried no longer. Now they were free to roam.

                She thought about Phineas, quietly at the helm. She didn’t know if she loved him. She wasn’t sure what love would feel like, or if she would know it when it happened. She knew that she felt differently about him than she had about any other man she’d met. When he kissed her on the rooftop, she felt something. Even if the kiss was a contrivance, designed to enable a crime, it didn’t feel that way to her. She put a hand in the pocket of her coat, feeling the faked engagement ring inside. There was a part of her that wished it had been real. She wished that the romance and the rooftop proposal had been real.

For the first time in her life, she finally felt free to love someone just for the sake of love. Maybe Phineas was that man. A large part of her hoped he was. Here was a man that knew who she was, knew her history and her secrets. And she trusted him, she had to trust him. Yet, somehow she believed that it was more than a hope that she trusted. She felt that it was genuine. She truly believed that in the end, he would love her back.

She looked overhead, white clouds drifted by in a light blue sky. The city’s skyline was still visible behind them, but not for much longer. She could see the telltale streaks of steam that showed the path of airships across the sky. They crisscrossed the city’s airspace, shuttling their occupants from this place to that. All of them blissfully unaware of the true nature of the city. She had been like them for so long. Now she knew about what happened beneath the surface, she had been a part of it. She was glad to be leaving that life behind to start anew.

One of the steam trails seemed to be heading out of the city. It was moving the same direction as they were. She could see the tiny airship at the front of the billowing steam and smoke. In a few minutes, it would pass over their head on its way across the countryside. Something about watching an airship streak across the sky was majestic and awe inspiring.

It seemed to be dropping its altitude as it approached them. That was quite strange. She called out to Phineas in the cabin. He came rushing out to see what she wanted. One look at the approaching airship, and he ran back to the helm and pushed the throttle. The boat accelerated underneath Anabelle and she fell to the ground.

The boat rose in the water, skimming over the surface of the dark river. Choppy waves broke against the bow, spraying over the top of the boat. She recoiled at the mist as it hit her face. She looked up and the airship was still gaining on them. They would never outrun it. It was a fast ship, much faster than their pleasure boat. She wondered if they were coming for her. Maybe Phineas was just over-cautious. There are many reasons an airship may be descending.

Her questions were answered a moment later when she heard gunfire from the airship. It was a warning shot across their bow. The bullets splashed into the water with a satisfying sound. Phineas began to jockey the boat back and forth as the ship fired off a few more rounds. Suddenly, she heard the engine release steam in a massive cloud. She was surrounded by steam as the boat came to a sudden rest against the resistance of the water.

Phineas swung the boat around and engaged the engine again, plowing the boat back upstream toward the airship. Bullets splashed in the water to the starboard side and Anabelle dove out of the way as they ripped into the deck of the boat. Overhead, the airship had released its engines and was gliding to a stop. The boat streaked past the airship as it lumbered itself around to continue the chase.

Heading upstream was rougher than downstream. The boat slammed into waves, each motion jarring Anabelle as she held on for her life. The airship was again in position, and she heard the bullets again, making their way toward the boat. Again, they ripped through the hull of the boat. A stream of water began to shoot from the front of the boat onto the deck.

Again, Phineas disengaged and flipped the boat around to head back downstream. They passed beneath the airship and streaked past. This time, the airship did not attempt to turn. Instead it fired a small cannon at the boat. The cannonball missed, striking the water in a spectacular explosion. Water rained down on the deck, soaking Anabelle. She shivered from the cold and chilling fear. She was going to die. She had never faced that thought before. But here it was; she was going to die.

Another cannon fired from the ship. This one was on the mark. It ripped into the center of the boat, sending splinters and planks flying. The cannonball passed all the way through the boat, striking the boiler on the way. Steam poured out of the hole in the deck as the boat came to a halt in the water. Below deck, water poured through the massive hole in the hull. More steam poured out as the river water boiled rapidly against the heat of the coal fire.

“Phineas!” Anabelle cried out. She was unhurt, but the boat was sinking fast. She clawed her way to the entrance to the cabin. It was filling with water. Phineas was in the cabin, but he wasn’t coming out.

“Phineas, come on, get out of there!” Anabelle shouted, reaching her hand toward the man that she might have loved.

“My foot is stuck. I can’t get free.” Phineas grunted, matter of fact.

“I’ll get you out.” She said in a panic, unsure how she could follow through with that promise.

“No. Just go. Swim to the bank. There’s a forest, you can get in there before the airship arrives.”

“I’m not going to leave you, Phineas.” Anabelle said through tears.

“You fool. You will be caught!” Phineas shouted. “Leave me.”

The boat was sinking. The cabin was filling more and more. The water was up to Phineas’s waist. Anabelle was still on the surface of the boat. She could easily swim away. The boat was drifting downstream slowly with the current. She looked overhead, where the airship was moving down toward them.

“I’ll get help.” Anabelle said urgently. “They will rescue you. They won’t let you die.”

Phineas shook his head. “They’ll Lock us up, Anabelle. You can still have your freedom. Now go!”

“No. You’re wrong, Phineas. I know you think that you would do that. You think you would swim away to freedom. But you’re wrong. You didn’t leave me on the train because you care about me…Because you love me. Well, I love you, Phineas, and I’d rather spend my life in jail than know that I left you to die.”

She waved at the airship and shouted, “Hurry! He’s stuck! Hurry! Help!”

The airship came lower. There was a man hanging from a rope at the bottom of the airship. He reached down to Anabelle and put an arm around her, lifting her off the deck of the boat. She felt herself being raised up into the airship.

“You have to help Phineas! He’s in the boat!” She shouted at the man who held on to her tightly. She screamed as she pounded against his chest.

She looked down toward the boat. A freighter passed alongside the boat, slowly heading upstream. The wake of the massive ship tossed the small pleasure boat. It slammed back down into the water on the other side. The boat cracked in half and the pieces rapidly sunk below the surface. Anabelle let out a wail and continued pounding on the rescuer’s chest.

“Phineas!” Her voice echoed across the countryside. It was a cry full of emotion she never knew she could have. Below, the river was smooth and flat. No sign of the boat could be seen. Anabelle didn’t notice as she was pulled inside the airship. The only thing she could feel was pain. She sobbed loudly as the airship turned back to the city that she never thought she would see again.

Part 38 >

TCB Part 36: Chapter 12: Sunday Morning

Go to the Beginning of the story

< Part 35

Chapter 12: Sunday Morning

Phineas waited outside the shop. He was getting antsy. It shouldn’t be taking him so long to grab a simple gadget. He knew it was there, he had seen it when he was last in the shop. He tapped his foot impatiently, and readjusted his hat for the umpteenth time. He looked up toward the upper room and saw activity up there. Finally, he came out of the shop, a package in hand.

“Here you go, Phineas, as promised.”

“Thanks, Everton.” Phineas shook Dr. Montebanque’s hand. “In a few months, when this has all blown over, I’ll come back around to see you.”

“Phineas, I wanted to ask you a question.” Dr. Montebanque said after a moment’s hesitation. “I am not good at being sneaky. I wonder what do you plan to do with the money?”

Phineas laughed, “Lesson one: don’t be so open about things. I will stash some of it about in different places. A lot of it I will spend.”

Everton scratched his head. He shifted nervously. “What sorts of things will you spend it on?”

Phineas looked around to make sure there was nobody else nearby. “I’m buying a boat. I plan to put it in the river and sail away. A few months on the water will do wonders for my mental wellbeing.”

“That sounds nice, Phineas. I am envious.” Dr. Montebanque replied, wistfully. “You are a lucky man.”

“What are you talking about, Everton? You’ve got just as much. You can do anything you want.”

“Yes, of course. But I do not have your sense of adventure.” Everton looked at his watch. “Alas, I must be going. Good luck to you, Phineas.”

At that, Phineas took his package and went to the safehouse. He had to collect the last of his portion before heading out of the city for good. He’d spent most of Saturday stashing what he could of his take. He had opened several accounts at local banks under his many identities and stashed what he could there. He was now at the limit of what he guessed was possible without raising suspicion. You can only carry so many gold bars into a bank without getting funny looks. Today was the day he would make a move from the city entirely. He could always come back for what he left at the banks, but he needed to get as much of the rest out today.

The city was a few hours into the Day of Rest and he knew they wouldn’t be paying attention. There were races to watch, picnics to attend, and children to entertain. There was one day each week where the people of the city forgot all their troubles and relaxed. That day was Sunday, which meant that this was the day for Phineas to get out of town.

He still had a half dozen gold bars to move, plus the miscellaneous things that he could shove in his pockets. There was enough here for him to live his life on, even if he never returned for what was in the banks. He climbed into the boxcar and was surprised to find another person there.

“Hello Phineas. I see you’ve been busy.” Anabelle smiled at Phineas and pointed at his area of the boxcar, now nearly empty. “You work fast.”

“It’s the only way, Belle.” Phineas hadn’t wanted to see anyone here, Anabelle least of all. He went to his remaining things and began to load them into his backpack. His back was turned to Anabelle, hoping she would get the hint and leave him alone.

“It’s all very strange, Phineas.” Her voice had lost the flirtatious edge that it once possessed.

Phineas sat on the floor of the boxcar and turned to face Anabelle. Something was wrong, and Phineas didn’t want to pour salt on the wound by being a jerk. “What is?”

“Everything is different now. I used to know who I was. Despite what you might say about the way I lived my life, it was my life. I knew how to live that way. Now I’ve got my own wealth, I don’t need to depend on others. And yet, I feel more lost than ever.” She sat on a stack of gold bars and put her head in her hands.

Phineas stood and went to her. He put an arm around her and she buried her face in his chest. “Come now, Belle. You’re going to be fine. It’s an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it. Look, you’re finally free to go where you want to go, do what you want to do. You don’t have to worry about keeping up appearances any longer.”

“You know, Phineas, I never loved any of the men that I met. None of them lit a spark for me. But I never stopped hoping. I truly believed that I would find someone who I wanted to be around just because of who he is, not because of what he could do for me. I’ve spent so long cultivating fake love, I’m afraid I’ll never know what true love is when I see it.”

“I don’t know what to say, Anabelle. Someday, you will find what you’re looking for.”

Anabelle looked at Phineas. There was a look in her eye that said that if Phineas asked her to run away with him, she would accept. Her face was splotchy and red from crying. She wasn’t wearing a fancy dress or makeup. Her hair was pulled back in a sensible way. For the first time, Phineas saw her as a person not that different from himself. He smiled sympathetically at her.

“You know, Phineas, you were wrong.”

Phineas laughed. “Pray tell. How was I wrong?”

“What you said about self-interest. On the train, when I didn’t come back in time, you went looking for me. Why did you do that?”

Phineas was defensive. “We weren’t in the clear, I didn’t want to risk having you caught. You knew too much.”

“I don’t think so. You know I’m trustworthy. Besides, there couldn’t have been any doubt in your mind that I could have handled myself. Despite what you might say, I’m as good a con as you.”

“Sure you are.” Phineas smiled sarcastically.

“I think you came for me because you cared for me. You were concerned for me, despite that your rational self-interest would dictate that you should have left me behind.”

Phineas smiled without further comment. He stood up and picked up his backpack. He hopped out of the boxcar and began to walk away. He heard Anabelle’s boots behind him.

She called out to him, “Take me with you, Phineas.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “You don’t know where I’m going.”

“I don’t care. Take me with you.”

“Trust me, Belle. If you come with me, you’ll grow tired of me in a hurry. I am a dreadfully boring companion.”

Anabelle smiled, “I’m willing to take that risk.”

Phineas turned and walked toward the exit. He got to the stairway and turned around. “You’d better grab some of your gold. I’m not going to be your sugar daddy.”

***

At the marina, Phineas approached the first boat he saw. It was a wooden-hulled steam yacht. The owner was loading the boat for a day on the water.

“How much for the boat?” Phineas shouted as he walked out onto the pier.

“She’s not for sale.” The owner replied.

“Everything’s for sale.” Phineas replied quickly. “How much?”

“Sorry. I’m taking my family out on the boat today.” The owner shook his head and took another box from the pier, and carried it below decks.

Phineas removed a gold bar from his backpack and put it down on the pier. When the owner came out, he nearly choked at the sight of it. It was more than twice the value of the boat, and the owner said so.

“That’s fine. Then you’ll have some leftover after you buy a new one.” Phineas smiled. “I really like this boat.”

“What are you, a criminal or something?” the boat owner asked

Phineas sat quietly for a moment. He looked around the marina. There were a few other boats with people near them. He reached down to pick up the gold bar. “Sorry to waste your time. I guess I’ll need to find another boat.”

The owner put his hand out and grabbed Phineas’s wrist. “I think you just bought yourself a boat.”

A minute later, Phineas and Anabelle set sail down the river for destinations unknown.

Part 37 >