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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #2087429
Introduction story for Lewis Haven a character created for the clash contest.
Haven: Introduction.

Word count: 1709

Lewis Haven settled into a dusty chair nestled into one corner of the small office. It was a tightly packed room. A large desk took up most of the space, the rest was crowded with cabinets overflowing with files. There were blue prints some rolled neatly, some draped over things, a few on the floor. All stuff you’d expect to find in an industrial office. But, as he scanned the shelves a few bits of culture were apparent. There were some novels, not many but good ones and worn enough to know that their owner read them. The nose of a bronze bust poked its way out from a pile of spilled papers. A lover of the classics.

From a nearby shelf Lewis picked up a worn volume: Leaves of grass by Walt Whitman. He thumbed to an earmarked page and read,
“I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.”


“Poetry?” Sanjay Asked.

Sanjay is kneeling against the wall nearby, rifle in hand, guarding the window through which they came in case anyone…or anything had the same idea. This whole place was a risk, a large building on flat ground. Its lot was open on three sides, and the fourth was guarded by nothing more than a chain-link fence so flimsy it was about to collapse under its own weight.

“You should hang on to that,” Sanjay said without looking over at him, his gaze fixed firmly on the window. “Wouldn’t mind hearing some poetry at night. Doubt I’d understand it, but it would have to be better than those God awful noises.”

He thought about it for a moment. Then carefully closed the book and returned it to the shelf where he had found it.

The office door opened and a short, rather round shaped man entered. He closed the door and hung his boiler cap on a rack. The weight of the hat activated some sort of mechanism which made a brief whirring sound and then a ten second, very mechanical sounding jingle played.

Lewis pulled his pipe from his coat and packed it from his tobacco pouch. Putting it in the corner of his mouth, he lit a match.

“CHRIST!” The man shrieked in alarm, finally noticing him from the brief flare of light. The man grabbed his chest like he about to die of shock and had to grab the corner of a cabinet to keep from falling, causing a small avalanche of important looking papers to fall to the floor. After a second or two the man regained his composure enough to flip a wall switch. The hum of a half dozen Edison bulbs followed and the room was filled with yellow orange light.

Lewis stared the man for a moment, then removed the pipe from his mouth so he could speak clearly. “You’re Mr. Conley, I presume?”

“How did you get in here?” The man asked. “Who…” His words trailed off as he noticed Lewis’s hand resting on the handle of his pistol. “You do understand…there’s no money here. This is the factory we just…”

“Have a seat,” Lewis said motioning to the chair behind the desk.

“I don’t think I will,” the man said glancing at the door.

“Have a seat,” he said again, his glare setting on the nervous man. This time he was obeyed as the man moved behind his desk and settled in. “Mr. Conley, I am Captain Lewis Haven of the British army, and I need to know exactly what you’re capable of building here.”

“Oh,” the man said relaxing a little. “Is this about military contracts? But…Well Sir, we make toys here. I can’t imagine any of our products would interest the Army. Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“You make animals don’t you?”

“You mean Automatic pets. Yes Sir we have a line of mechanical dogs and cats. We’re also developing an Automatic Parrot which we hope to have ready by next year. We’re calling him the Mr. Deckard! Is the army considering some for their hospitals?”

Lewis’s hand flexed on the grip of his gun. Sanjay looked at him. “You’ve never built anything larger?”

“Larger…?”

“Would it be possible to build a large animal, like a bear or maybe a big cat? It would have to be extremely strong, agile even with armor, and…intelligent.”

The man swallowed hard. “What would be the purpose of such a thing?”

“To hunt men.”

“Yes…well sir, I don’t think you understand the nature of Automatic pets. Of course we could make nearly any animal, and size isn’t a problem. That’s just materials. But they don’t…think. They respond to very basic stimuli. The dogs wag their tails when someone they’re programed to know is near, they bark at strangers. The cats purr when someone rubs a hand over diodes hidden under the fur. But, it’s all just programed responses. You can’t make one that reasons.” He chuckled, “My best engineers with ten years and all the money in this company couldn’t build you a cat that hunts mice effectively. It’s impossible.”

Lewis stood knocking his chair over, in the same motion he drew his gun, cocked it, and leveled it at the man’s head.

“Don’t tell me it’s imposable, I’ve seen the beast!” he roared.

“Oh God,” the man fell backwards out of his chair and scrambled along the floor till he ran into he wall.

Sanjay stepped in front of him. “He’s a civilian sir,” Sanjay said concern in his voice.

“Get back to your post,” Lewis growled. “This civilian is lying.”

He and his second officer stared at one another, neither yielding.

“Wait…” The man on the floor said, his hands in air. “Look…I’m saying it’s imposable for me. My company can’t build that. But, there’s a man.”

Lewis holstered his gun and Sanjay stepped aside. He walked over to stare down at the little man.

“Who?”

“His name is Plumpocket, a very wealthy man right here in London. He’s into all sorts of advanced stuff, clockwork, steam, electricity – you name it. He even asked us about an Automatic dog just recently. I…I didn’t talk to him myself. But I heard later that when he was told about our dogs he said he could do better…please don’t kill me.”

There was a noise at the door.

A moment later three security guards burst into the room, leveling their guns at…an open window and a feint wisp of pipe smoke. Their boss was on the floor, sniveling. They looked around the small room confused.

“Smells of nutmeg,” one guard said smiling. “My wife cooks with it when we can afford it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


It had been a while since Lewis had ridden in a handsome cab. Not since before the war. The sun was setting and it seemed like it would be a pleasant night. The horse was well trained and kept a smooth pace on the cobble tiles. For a while their route took them along the Thames, its odor somehow reassuring. As he settled in he found himself wishing he had a book to read.

But, he did. Feeling a weight in his pocket of his coat, he realized he did have a book. He pulled out the copy of “Leaves of grass” he’d taken from the office at the factory.

“Except I didn’t take it. You saw me put it back?” He asked…who was it he was talking to?

Upfront a young boy, the son of cab driver riding alongside his father heard him and climbed into the seat facing him.

“I didn’t see nothing Mr.” The boy said.

Puzzled, he stared off into the dense trees. The spaces between showed a world as dark as night cut off from the sun by the dense foliage above. His eyes strained looking for any glint of light that might indicate a rifle scope. They were out in the open on this road and he didn’t like it. Instead he saw something moving much closer to the carriage, a shift in the leaves, the sound of trees snapping as something crashed towards the carriage.

“GET DOWN!”

He grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt and threw him to the floor of the cab. Rising from his own seat he pulled the rifle from his back, and leveled it in a smooth motion prepared to fire through his leather case…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Mr…” Lewis awoke with the cab driver was shaking him. “You’re here Mr.”

He caught the man’s arm at the wrist, turning it quickly. His other hand reached up and caught his elbow bracing it, effectively locking the man’s arm. Glairing, Lewis pushed the man away from him. He caught sight of the Man’s son peering at him over the driver’s seat, a frightened look in his eyes.

Feeling guilty he released the man’s arm, and lightened his gaze. He wanted to smile and reassure the boy but he’d forgotten how to make a smile that wouldn’t frighten children. Instead he adjusted the collar of his coat and shirt back to muster and stepped out of the cab. Pulling a handful of coins from his pocket he dropped them in a tin cup bolted to the side of the carriage. The cabdriver was quick to climb back up to the reigns and the carriage left, doing double-time down the paved road.

Lewis’s attention had already turned to the house. It was a large house of an unusual design. As he made his way up the walk he found Sanjay knelt down at the open gate studying the ground.

“There have been others here sir, recently,” Sanjay said.

He studied the tracks. Numerous people had been through here, their tracks all running together. He followed them through the gate where one print stood out, clearly marked in the grass. It was that of a very large lion.

Lewis turned his gaze back to the house, from somewhere within he could hear alarms going off.

“This is it Sanjay,” he said. “I think we’ll find our answers here.”

“I hope so sir,” Sanjay replied.
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