Robbery on the Steampunk Express

Hanging from the side of a train, her handbag strap the only thing between her and certain death, Theodora began to question her recent decisions. If only she had stayed with her aunt, instead of following that mysterious mechanical man and landing herself in a veritable pudding of troubles. Then she wouldn’t be dangling here by her handbag, desperately hoping none of the gearheads found her and cut her loose. If she had just listened to her mother for once, she would have remained blissfully unaware of the whole affair. “Stay with your Aunty the whole way there,” her mother had warned, “and stay strictly away from any adventures!” Theodora was certain Mother hadn’t expected her middle child to get herself entangled in a full scale train robbery, but nonetheless, she now saw wisdom in her mother’s words.

* * *

When bidding farewell to her parents that morning, Theodora had been full of excitement. By means of a pre-arranged disaster, she had convinced her parents to let her stay the summer with her uncle in the country. They reasoned that the best way to prevent any more chandeliers from crashing down during balls would be for their daughter to spend some time away from such balls.

Theodora didn’t particularly care for balls. There were much more exciting things than listening to gossip and awkwardly dancing with young men. She looked forward to exploring Uncle Edward’s sizable estate, discovering its secrets. She was especially glad to be spending time away from her siblings and the rest of society. Her three older sisters and two little brothers were bad enough, but some of her peers were just plain cruel. People just didn’t understand Theodora, and what they didn’t understand, they belittled. 

Mum had prattled on to Aunty Gwen about tutoring, etiquette and other such nonsense. Theodora stroked Twiddle’s head, pausing to rub his stubby iron horns. She was glad Mum had agreed to let her take him. Though she had originally asked for a mechanical hound, she had grown rather fond of the goat. Sure, Twiddle had a tendency to chew the hem of her dress when he was low on coal, but she planned to fix that over the summer. Edward happened to be the owner of Goodfellow Mechanicals. He had designed dozens of models of gearheads, mechanicals and whistle-tooters. Theodora secretly hoped he would share some of his knowledge with her during her stay. She knew it was unthinkable, scandalous even, for a woman to work with machines, but her uncle had always been more tolerant of his eccentric niece. If anybody truly understood her, it would be him.

“Theodora, dear, are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Her mother’s words brought her back to the train station. “The train is boarding. Do you have all your things?” 

Nodding, Theodora gathered up her luggage and patted her handbag. She followed Aunty Gwen to the luggage car, where four gearheads were busy hoisting bags up into the train. A brass hand snatched Theodora’s trunk, adding it to the car. Theodora was about to turn and leave when a mechanical squeal caught her attention. One of the clockwork men was trying to drag Twiddle to the car, but Twiddle was not coming quietly. “Let him go,” Theodora pleaded, trying to get the gearhead to stop. “He can ride with me!”

A voice from behind startled her. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but all mechanicals have to travel with the luggage. Railway policy, I’m afraid.” 

The man who spoke appeared to be a porter, overseeing the gearheads’ work. Theodora looked him over. She was about to protest further, but her aunt interrupted. “Our apologies, good sir.” Aunty Gwen turned to her niece. “Dora, dear, would you be so kind as to deactivate your mechanical?” The look in her eyes indicated that this was an order, not a request.

Theodora bristled at the use of the nickname, but knew there was no use in arguing. Reluctantly, she walked over to Twiddle, stroking him gently, then reached underneath his chin and flipped the little switch there. The gears in the goat’s eyes slowed their whirring. Twiddle bent his knees, laying on the ground, then went still. At a signal from the porter, the gearheads stepped forward and took the mechanical, lifting it into the luggage car. Theodora watched until her friend was out of sight.

“Come along dear,” her aunt called. “Proper ladies don’t dawdle. Our compartment is over here.” Theodora turned her back to the gearheads and followed Aunty Gwen. 

When they arrived at their seats, Aunty Gwen was distraught. “Porter! Porter, over here!” An attendant walked up. “What is the meaning of this?” her aunt demanded, gesturing at their seat. “I specifically requested a private compartment!” A portly man sat in the seat across from them, but seemed unfazed by Aunty Gwen’s inconsiderate remarks. Peering closer, Theodora realized the man was fast asleep, his hat brim pulled low over his eyes.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the attendant was saying. “We had a very wealthy passenger reserve a ticket last minute, requesting an entire car to himself. This was one of the few seats we still had available.” He paused, then added, uncertainly, “If you’d like a private compartment, we can get you on the next train out.”

Theodora’s aunt let out an indignant hrrumph. She gestured for her niece to take a seat. “I shall have much to say about the service of this railway,” she declared as the attendant left to check on another passenger. “The disgrace of it all, a respectable woman and her charge having to sit with a strange man.” She huffed again as she took her seat next to Theodora. The said man let out a snore, causing Aunty Gwen to look away in disgust. Around them, passengers settled into their seats. The train began to move, slowly rolling forward and picking up speed. Through their window, Theodora watched first the station pass by, then the blur of Manchester streets. Eventually, the buildings disappeared altogether, replaced by rolling hills and green country.

Safely underway, Theodora thought of her mechanical goat. She itched to sneak to the luggage car and check on Twiddle, but her aunt sat between her and the aisle. One look at Aunty Gwen made it clear that the woman was not going to tolerate any wandering from her niece. Theodora’s shoulders sunk in disappointment. She began observing the other passengers, entertaining herself by imagining histories for each of them. The two older women behind her were sisters, long estranged and had only recently reconciled. Across the aisle from her sat a young man and woman, clearly newlywed on their way to honeymoon in York. Theodora decided that the man facing them was a struggling business owner, traveling to make an advantageous deal in Leeds. 

The occupant of the seat behind the lovers was obscured, but across from him sat a mysterious man in a bowler hat. At first, Theodora didn’t notice the oddity, but when the figure suddenly looked up at her, she realized that it wasn’t a man, but a clockwork. Exposed gears turned within a metal frame where its face would be. Frightened, she turned away. What was a gearhead doing as a passenger? Sure, the railway employed the mechanical men, but they were kept strictly separate from the living passengers. This gearhead must not be part of the crew. Theodora glanced back at it, noticing it was no longer facing her. Upon further reflection, she wasn’t sure if the clockwork could really have been looking at her. Gearheads didn’t have eyes, not in the literal sense. Twiddle had sensors to detect his immediate surroundings, and she imagined that these clockworks were the same. They could only “see” up to a certain distance. The strange mechanical probably didn’t even know she existed. Still, as she saw its face turn in her direction once more, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was watching her.

* * *

Arms growing tired, Theodora attempted once more to pull herself up, but she simply didn’t have the strength. She wondered how long it would be before they gave out altogether, and she tumbled to her death on the tracks below. The gearheads seemed to have either forgotten her or left her for dead. Would her aunt have thought to check on her yet, or would she still be impatiently waiting outside the loo? 

Her aunt! Perhaps she had realized that Theodora was missing! If so, Theodora was certain she would go into a frenzy, sending every attendant on the train to search for her niece. They would discover the clockworks and their plot, and reach Theodora in time to rescue her from a gruesome fate! She clung to this thought, desperately hoping it to be true.

Then she remembered how odd the train crew had acted, and her hopes sank. When the gearhead arose from his seat, accompanied by another of his kind, Theodora had glimpsed a pistol on each of the mechanical men. She warned a porter as soon as the machines left the car, but the worker had brushed aside her concern, claiming there were no such passengers on the train. That was when Theodora took matters into her own hands. 

* * *

Convincing her aunt that she absolutely must relieve herself and could not wait a moment longer, she succeeded in being escorted out of her seat. The moment she was alone, she climbed out the window of the loo and around the outside of the train, arriving at the adjacent car. She made her way from one car to the next until she reached the end of the passenger cars.

When she entered the luggage car, she saw no sign of her quarries. Trunks were piled along the edges of the car. Other large objects cluttered the floor, making it difficult to walk through. Clearly the gearheads that loaded the train had done a poor job of organizing. Carefully, Theodora crept around the car, looking behind every pile to make sure no clockworks came jumping out at her. 

Engrossed in her search for the gearheads, she didn’t notice the obstacle until she stumbled over it.Theodora fell hard, scraping her knees and getting grime all over her dress. She looked to see what had tripped her, and found her goat, Twiddle, lying on the floor. A quiet cry of relief escaped her lips. A quick flick under the chin brought her friend whirring back to life. The goat stood up, then promptly began chewing on the hem of Theodora’s sleeve.

“Stop that,” she whispered, batting at Twiddle’s nose. She searched the velvet pocket of her handbag, where she kept some coal for her mechanical, but only found a small pebble of the stuff. This she fed to him, patting his head softly while she did so.

“I’m terribly sorry, Twiddle, but that’s all I have,” she said. “I’ll get you more when we reach Uncle Edward’s. Right now, I need you to wait here for me, okay? There’s something I need to do.” The goat gave no indication that he understood her, but he did not follow as she rose to her feet. 

The gearheads she was following were clearly not here, though she spotted the deactivated models that had loaded the train in one corner. There was only one more car behind this one, so that must be where the machines had gone. Searching the room for something to defend herself with, Theodora decided upon a sturdy-looking walking stick, leaning against the wall. She grabbed it, took a deep breath, and walked through the door. 

 Standing between the two cars, Theodora paused. She cracked open the door to the next car, then slipped inside. The front third of the carriage was filled with identical metal crates, stacked on either side of the door. The rest of the car was empty, and Theodora soon saw why. At the rear end of the train, one of the gearheads was passing a crate to its companion, who tossed the box out the back of the train. Why in the Queen’s Name would they be throwing the boxes off the train? Whatever was in the crates must be valuable to merit a whole car to itself. It seemed odd to just toss it out into the countryside.

Theodora had no time to dwell on this oddity, for at that moment, the gearheads spotted her. With surprising swiftness, they charged towards her. Theodora turned and threw open the door, but before she could make it through, a cold hand closed around her left wrist. She bashed the arm that held her with the cane, sending metal bits flying and forcing the hand to let go. Then she was out the door and slammed it behind her, holding it closed. Knowing she couldn’t hold it for long, Theodora prepared to make a dash through the luggage car to the passenger section. However, her plan was thwarted when the door across from her opened and two more gearheads walked through.

The clockworks came to a sudden halt, sensing her presence. Without another thought, Theodora spun around releasing the door and grabbing onto the ladder to the left of it. She scrambled as fast as she could while still holding the cane. She saw an iron hand reach towards her and kicked it away. Pulling herself to the top, she ran forward a few paces, then whirled around, walking stick at the ready.

One of the mechanical men appeared, pulling itself over the edge. Theodora waited a moment, but the other ones did not appear. They must have returned to their criminal work, determining that she had nowhere else to run. She wasn’t sure if gearheads possessed such logic, but then again, she hadn’t thought they could rob trains either. At this point, little would surprise her.

The gearhead took a step towards her. She swung the cane, but it raised both hands, catching it and shoving it back. Theodora stumbled backward, taking care to stay clear of either edge. She struck again, but the clockwork grabbed the stick and wrenched it out of her hands, throwing it off the train. Theodora’s momentum carried her forward. She slid past the machine and to the edge of the roof. Just then, a jolt shook the train, and Theodora fell over the side.

As she fell, time seemed to slow. She slid her hands across the edge of the train, hoping to find purchase, but it was her handbag that ultimately saved her. It caught on a protrusion and slid over her head. She only just grabbed it in time. Now she held on for dear life. 

At first, she had worried the gearhead would come finish her off, but it must have lost its ability to sense her once she was over the edge. Minutes passed in agonizing discomfort, but neither machine nor human came to find her. Theodora decided that nobody was coming to the rescue. It was up to her to save herself.

In one final attempt, she kicked off the side of the train in a half-upward, half-outward jump. Theodora took one hand off the bag and reached for the edge, but she was too far out to make contact. She felt herself slow as her jump reached its peak, and knew that she would fall to her death below.

A metallic blur shot out and attached to her wrist. Twiddle had his jaw clamped tightly on the sleeve of Theodora’s dress. Instead of falling, Theodora hung there, until the goat began tugging with inhuman strength. As she was pulled closer to the train, Theodora let go of her handbag and successfully grabbed the edge of the roof. With Twiddle still pulling at her wrist, she used her other arm to help push herself up onto the roof. Once there, she lay on her back, arms aching from all the strain. A few moments passed before she sat up. 

Leading Twiddle to the front of the car, she peered over the edge. No gearheads in sight. She wondered how to get her goat down the ladder, when he surprised her by jumping of his own accord, landing on all fours. Shrugging, Theodora scrambled down the ladder. She paused, considering the door behind her. Her safest option was to forget the mechanicals altogether and find her aunt, but part of her could not bear the thought of doing nothing to stop the robbery. Even if she alerted the train crew, by the time they got here, there would probably be nothing left. 

With a sigh, Theodora stepped up to the door, her decision made. At least this time, she had Twiddle with her. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door 

and found an empty car. Both crates and gearheads were gone, with no sign of them ever having been there. Theodora was too late.

She slumped to the floor. All her adventure, her brush with death, had been for nothing. Someone had robbed an entire carriage full of goods, and she hadn’t even discovered who was behind it. 

As if sensing her discouragement, Twiddle walked up beside her. She rubbed his back as he bent to chew on her dress. Dusting off her skirt, she stood, turning to leave. A glimmer of metal caught her eye. There, near the door, lay some odd bits of metal. Theodora went to inspect them closer. They were clearly gearhead parts, probably from the one she had hit with the cane. One sliver of metal had writing etched onto it.

Theodora gasped as she read what was inscribed there.

Goodfellow Mechanicals.