1.2.
Lord Tannen dressed
in his night woolen gown, sat down the wine glass on the side table. He was in
his personal chamber, where the section was decorated to house his collection
of books and valued personal effects. The place was dimly lighted by the
electric lights bulbs that were powered by the steam engine generator. The
current flowed through the copper conduit wires that lined the walls and
corridors. He had placed the lights well spaced out to ensure the books shelves
are highlighted. He took pride in those books; he started when he was younger,
acquiring the volumes from auction or by illegal acquisitions. He spent his
free time reading them. His favorite corner was the armchair, crafted from the
cherry tree with the arm rest crafted from the ivory tasks he got from a
friend. He was feeling thirsty and had taken a long drink. The movement of his
mechanical hand was still erratic after the fine tuning by the technicians. It
was never too tight or sensitive to his needs. He sat the glass too fast and
caused the glass to shatter. He cursed at himself and then at the mechanical
hand on his right wrist. The damned thing was to replace his real hand which
was removed by the assassin. For that the handy work, he had made sure the assassin
paid the price for the attempt. They caught the assassin and had him thrown into
the hole for safe keeping.
“My Lord,
perhaps you would like another drink?” Lord Tannen looked up at the mechanical
contraption that served as his personal valet and guard. The contraption was
designed to look like a human dressed like a butler but the obvious plates of
metal could never replace the looks of real flesh seen on its exposed limbs.
The contraption even holds a human expression with the dark shades for the
brows and the thick upper lips look of the moustache.
“Wind up, you
imbecile.” Lord Tannen cursed at the coal fed contraption, with its mechanical gears.
The contraption commonly known to many as a tin man, but in this chamber, he
had a name like a real butler. The tin man had no emotions recorded into its
organization box inside its head. It was powered with the coal pieces which
were fed through its left shoulder vent. The stove inside it would generate the
heat to move the gears and joints of its limbs. As for its thinking process, it
was the work of a set of mini gears and intricate pre-set commands inside its
organization box which are activated by the pneumatic pressures on the
different plates for it to function. One of the commands in this advanced model
was the basic instruction to keep it own self working. The tin man could be
self sufficient with its own assessment of the required heating element and held
the command to stay immobile for certain periods of time.
After having
spoiled his mood, Lord Tannen have resorted to self adjusting the levers on his
wrist so that it would work properly. He had a set of tools there, and found difficulty
working the tools over the small notches in the levers. He got irritated and
tossed the tool across the room.
“Damn you,
assassin!” Lord Tannen voiced out his anger at the figure that removed his
right hand. He looked to the window and cursed. “I hoped you rot down there.”
It had been
three months then, since the attempt on his life, but he found the assassin
still prevailed there in the rot decayed hole. The assassin had crept in the
night like then; with the full garbs of the dark shades that favors these
killers. The assassin would have succeeded if not for the untimely intervention
of the cranky wind up clock in his room. The sound woke him up and he saw the
dark figure there. He shouted for his guards while reaching with his right hand
for the hidden lever to activate the alarm. He got it activated but the
assassin had targeted his right wrist with the flying dagger. The wound was
deep and severed his arteries causing him later to lose the use of it.
The assassin was
challenged by his personal guards which had charged in. The assassin took down
three of the best he could hire before he attempted to escape by the window. The
assassin made it to the window, but he had a slip of the luck. It was an
unfortunate thing that the assassin had to miss his footing on the balcony edge
and fell down to the ground below. The assassin was captured and tortured for
days but he would not reveal his paymaster.
“James 324. I
want a new glass.” Lord Tanned raised his voice but his tin-man was not
responding. He turned to look at the tin man, but the metal contraption still
stood there at the corner. It had its head hanging on the right shoulder, where
spring locks are seen unhinged from its sockets. He was to shout when the right
arm of the assassin from the rear went around his neck before it pulled back.
His left hand reached for it, but he was powerless against the strong grip. He
tried to move his right hand over it but the mechanical hand just would not
respond. His legs reacted instinctively to the attack, kicking out on the
flooring but there was little he could do. He felt the windpipe losing its
supply of air, and vision was starting to darken. He soon felt his body giving
up and his mind fleeting. He saw his ex wives; all smiling dressed in black.
And then nothing
was felt in his body.
The assassin
relaxed his lock on the neck and his right knee against the Lord’ spine move
back. The task was delivered, albeit three months late. He stepped away and let
the body slide to the floor. He walked to the side table and took the
unfinished wine cask. He drank it all before he tossed the cask at the tin man.
He then looked to the ceiling and smiled. He had disabled the thin wires that
crisscrossed there and if tripped would have sounded the alarm in the chamber. They
were expensive to install and these ones had an extra design. It had these
transistors laced sensory board which made the wire when cut would set off the
alarms too but the assassin had come in undetected from above. He knew how these
sensory vibes works and also how to disable it. It was how he got in.
The assassin
then saw his own reflection in the mirror. He looked bad and dirty with the
unkempt hair and lice bitten body marks. He looked around and saw the doorway
to the bath area. He went there and saw the rectangle bath tub embedded into
the flooring. There was a toy duck floating there. He stepped in and lowered
his body into the smoothing cold water. He stayed there for a while absorbing
the pleasures before he moved to scrub the dirt off.
“Wash, Sir.” The
assassin turned to look at the contraption which spoke out. It was a good
metallic representation of the human lady maid, with the correct appendages
that was polished to reflect the feminist qualities. The contraption reached
down with the metallic arms to scrub the dirt off the body flesh.
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