Mechanized Masterpieces: A Steampunk Anthology Read Online Free PDF

here . . . the possibilities are endless.”
    “And what of England?”
    I snorted. “The Empire upon which the sun never sets? The Great Industrial Power? Do you truly think they will listen to anything I have to say? The madness is self-perpetuating. Industry and coal, coal and industry. They are in lock step and nothing will dislodge the men who profit by it.”
    “Except, perhaps, a devastating war.”
    “Heaven forbid.”
    We again fell silent, but I could feel Rowland mulling over more than his kill-devil.
     “What is it?” Rowland looked up, startled. “What is it you need to say to me that you will not?”
    “It’s not my place to say.”
    “And yet, you have come all this way to say it. In six years, you have not once made the passage, but now, here you are.”
    “You never returned home. You never came to see us.”
    “I am shackled to this island.”
    “No one is that indispensable. You have men enough to deal with the sugar business. Rottstieger runs himself ragged trying to manage things because you insist on living here. You could accomplish so much more from London.”
    “The business does not shackle me. The matter is more personal. I would rather not discuss it.”
    “You mean Bertha.”
    I carefully set down my pen and blotted the ledger, then stuffed everything into the courier pouch. I locked the safe, switched off both lights, and opened the door for my brother.
    “You cannot just ignore me, Fairfax.”
    “What would you have me reply, Rowland? You have said nothing.”
    “I would have you assure me all is well between you and Bertha. I am concerned for her—for you both.”
    “ Bertha , is it?”
    “What else would you have me call my sister-in-law?”
    “Whom you have never once laid eyes on.” I peered at him in the darkness. His face, despite the distant light, revealed more than I cared to understand. “I cannot see how that is any of your concern.” I moved down the stairs, then stopped and turned to him. “In point of fact, I have stayed away from London specifically to keep it private, and yet, here you are, intruding .”
    “It is my concern when I see you destroying yourself, Fairfax. I scarcely know you any longer.”
    I snorted at the irony. “You have never known me, Rochester . You, dearest brother, have never gotten past taunting me with that lesser name at school. I have been Fairfax to you since I was eight years old, I have always hated it, and you have never, ever, attempted to leave off. You make me a stranger, so you have no right to advise me.”
    I tromped down the stairs, but Rowland remained where he stood. “Just tell me why Bertha is so terrified of you.”
    “And how could you possibly know that?”
    “She told me.”
    “She told you. You have been corresponding with my wife ?”
    “She wrote to me pleading for help. You have turned everyone against her—even her own family. She has no one else to turn to. I am her only friend in the world.”
    “Indeed. And how long, pray, has this tender exchange been taking place?”
    Rowland flinched. I huffed my derision and turned away. Rowland came trailing after me as I circled the hangar, securing doors, testing anchor lines. “What are you doing?”
    “A storm is coming.” I reached the power box and levered-up the handle. The hangar flooded with brilliant light. Rowland winced at the assault, then fairly jumped back at the sight of my automatons looming over him. They looked even more sinister illuminated, I suppose, despite my best efforts to humanize them—or perhaps because of it.
    I wheeled on him, my army of mechanical men menacing behind me. “How long, Rowland? How long ago did you begin writing? Before you lost Yvette?”
    Rowland swallowed hard. “A year . . . a year before she . . .”
    Blazes. He looked even worse with the lights on. I doubted he had slept in the six months since Yvette had gone. The anger dribbled through my fingers. Poor, stupid Rowland. Had he been the