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hypnotic than before.
    “Have you had schooling?”
    I kept my eyes where they were, holding his stare.
    He nodded his approval. “In the sciences?”
    My gaze wavered slightly.
    “Then allow me to explain as clearly as I can.” He pulled the fob watch from his vest and moved to open it. Just as quickly, he thought better of it and returned it to its prior location. “You understand how a watch must be wound to keep proper time? That if it is not tended to, or in the case of a self-winding mechanism, not tilted to and fro, the gears will cease their motion and the hands will stop moving?”
    Understanding of the concept was reflected in my eyes, and he went on. “Now imagine if one of the components was damaged. If the stem used to wind the watch was snapped from its proper place. Or a gear was slightly out of alignment … no. No!”
    He grew frustrated and began to pace. “That's not it at all,” he muttered. “This problem is electrical. I am certain of it. That is why the rhythm fluctuates as it does. It is not the first time I have seen it, nor will it be the last. One question remains, and that is this. Is there anything possible that can be done to intervene?” His head fell into his hands for an instant. Thin, elegant fingers ran back through his hair and grasped at the back of his neck. “Is it possible to best Death this time?”
    I was frightened by his words, and his intentions. I had been raised to believe that the Creator himself decided when it was your time to leave this life and any effort to cheat death — any attempt to play God and prolong life past the rightful dictates of Providence — would only render one Forsaken. Disowned by the heavenly host, and condemned to live out eternity as one of the soulless, living damned who languished upon the streets where Schuyler Algernon had found me.
    I understood that this must play into the decision that he was trying to make — and I knew that if he intervened in this manner, and was caught, there would be grave consequences to him personally whether I lived or died.
    “Would that we lived in kinder times,” he mumbled, as he continued moving back and forth at an even quicker pace.
    So I was right — the burden of law was weighing upon his mind.
    We lived in such a ridiculously contradictory time in human history. The inhabitants of our world were no calmer than the chaotic planet itself. Society was sharply divided, as people grew passionate to the point of despair, drowning in the murky depths of their differences.
    A few tried simply to keep up with the future as it unfolded before them, even as the majority dug in their heels, only to be dragged under the wheels of progress in their attempt to halt the march of time and return to “simpler values”.
    Those like Godspeed, those possessing intellects beyond their lifetimes, were only spoken of in hushed tones, and only then for the purpose that they be pronounced heretics. Their work was branded blasphemous, a dark, unholy alchemy punishable to the fullest extent of the law if discovered.
    The same men who cheered on the advances in and production of airships and steam- powered locomotives condemned any such forward motion in medical practice they deemed beyond man's purview.
    It was a sad fact but one I could not deny: if Godspeed decided to help me now, he would be risking his own life to save mine.
    At last, the doctor ceased his pacing and slowly dropped to one knee. Though he raised his face toward mine, I could not read his expression now. Every feature had been erased of emotions, leaving the slate completely blank.
    “There is a chance, slight though it may be, that I may be able to prolong your life.” He barely breathed the words, leaning closer to me. His face was half in light of the fire and half in shadow, and I thought it quite fitting. It seemed his very existence teetered on a tightrope, precariously strung high above the realm of those two extremes: light of day versus