Professor Flintlock’s Marvelous Machine - 11
A Serialized Sreampunk Fantasy Novel
Felicity was on the run now.
She darted through the dim corridors of the airship, heart hammering, eyes scanning for any sign of safety—a bridge, a lifeboat, even a maintenance shaft. Anything that might offer protection or escape. Her mind raced faster than her feet, struggling to accept what she already knew deep down.
Her uncle hadn’t been a caretaker. He’d tolerated her presence the way one tolerates a moth in a room—flicking it away when convenient. But now she understood he’d had more than irritation in his heart. He had plans. Designs. For her, for the Gray estate, and most of all, for the patents her father had left behind.
The Guilford Gray legacy wasn’t just a nest egg. It was power—power wrapped in copper wire and steam valves, power that could shape the future.
And her uncle wanted it all.
Worse still was what Flintlock had revealed—that he knew her name. That he’d been watching. That he’d known exactly who she was from the beginning. And Peter Milner? That poor man had simply been a piece of the puzzle, a pawn in a larger game.
But what was Felicity? What piece did she play? She wasn’t brilliant like her father. She wasn’t an inventor. She wasn’t even—she bit down the thought—a boy. In the harsh calculus of powerful men, what did that make her?
A liability. A loose thread. Or a key.
Behind her, footsteps echoed. She froze, then veered into a narrow maintenance passage she knew from the ship’s schematics. Between the walls, through thick piping and cables, she climbed down, aiming for the engine room far below.
But the space was tight, too tight. Her dress snagged on the metal fittings. The beadwork tore, scattering like droplets across steel. Gritting her teeth, she ripped the bottom half away, leaving herself in her underclothes. Modesty was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She pressed on, steam venting around her, the heartbeat of the ship thrumming louder with every level she descended.
Finally, she emerged onto a catwalk above the engine—a space thick with heat and motion.
“Felicity?”
She turned. The engineer stood there—an older man, thick-armed and soft-eyed, worry lining a brow more used to kindness.
“I believe the craft is under attack,” he said, voice steady despite the chaos.
“It is,” Felicity replied. “Flintlock. He’s come for the ship—come for me.”
“A more powerful engine’s towing us off-course,” the engineer muttered. “Can barely tell which way’s forward anymore.”
“Then we need to reach the bridge,” Felicity said. “Maybe we can take control, land the ship before it’s too late.”
The engineer hesitated, then offered her his hand. “Come, child. There’s still time. This way.”
Something in her twisted. Was he sincere? Or had someone else gotten to him too?
She took his hand anyway.
Together, they wound through the lower decks, down forgotten corridors where the ship’s true workings hid. At last, they reached a door Felicity had never noticed before—thick, brass-rimmed, old.
“Just beyond here,” the engineer said. “Safety.”
He opened the door.
Inside the chamber stood Professor Flintlock, hands on his hips, wearing that smug, sharp smile of his.
“Very good, Billy,” Flintlock said. “Thank you for bringing her.”
Felicity spun. “You—” she gasped. “You’re one of them!”
Billy said nothing.
“You needed a spy aboard,” Felicity went on. “To confirm something. Rumors, about the ship? You didn’t need to attack us at all. You could’ve taken it without bloodshed. You could have—”
Flintlock raised a hand. “This was never about the ship, my dear. This has always been about you.”
She blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“No,” he said gently. “I don’t imagine you would. Many things have been kept from you, Felicity Gray. But that ends soon. I’ll see to it personally.”
He drew a slim metal case from his pocket.
“Guilford Gray,” he continued, “was more than an engineer. More than a visionary. He was... an anomaly. A leap in human potential. A man who should not have existed—and yet did.”
Felicity took a step back.
Flintlock’s eyes gleamed. “Some are given gifts. My life’s work has been to find them. To understand them.”
“You’re a pirate,” Felicity said, almost spitting the word.
“Do you truly believe that?” he asked softly. “Have I struck you as a common thief? A raider? I seek knowledge. Secrets. The keys to a new age.”
He stepped closer.
“Yes, I’ve done ruthless things. There is no nation on Earth—no democracy—strong enough to hold the truth I pursue. But I believe one of those truths lies in you.”
“I’m just a girl,” Felicity whispered. “I haven’t even been introduced to society yet. I have no say in what happens to me.”
Flintlock’s voice softened. “I know. Your father made sure of that.”
He opened the case.
Inside lay a long, thin device, barely visible, its edge almost non-existent.
“Brilliant,” Flintlock said.
Billy seized Felicity’s hands, pinning them behind her back.
“What are you doing?!” she cried, panic surging.
Images flooded her mind—every fear, every whispered story of monsters in men’s clothing. Her body tensed.
Behind her jaw, where she’d always thought she had a simple birthmark, Flintlock placed the strange device. It slid in with a soft click. Hummed.
And turned.
Felicity’s mind went blank.
And then she was falling—falling into the dream of gears.