A whistle blew out across the Gearford city streets. Lucas could feel the night’s wind on his face. His hand took that of his friend, Esther. Her shoes made a clack upon the sidewalk.
“It’ll be just up this way,” Lucas said.
They turned a corner. In front of them was the entrance to a tall residential building.
Esther gathered her skirts and ran ahead. “How exciting!”
Lucas meandered along, not pushing himself to catch up to the entrance.
“Aren’t you excited?” she said.
Her smile had a tinge of wildness to it, like she was able to forget who she was just for one night. She was still in mourning, dressed in the traditional black every day. Lucas thought that she needed to get out of the house desperately, and her expression proved it for him.
Lucas turned to climb up the steps towards the door. “Of course, I am. Though, perhaps a little more nervous than you, hm?”
“Oh, yes. What about this poem makes you so nervous? I thought you’d written poetry before.”
“Well, I think the poem’s considerably more intimate this time,” Lucas explained, “William isn’t one to let easy on me, to write something about my automata. No, he insisted it was 'personal'…”
They walked into the entryway and looked up Bittersworth’s apartment on the bell board and pulled the cord. Lucas stepped out of the building so that whoever was checking the door rings could see him. He waited.
“Have you known William for long?” Esther asked.
“Not as much as you’d think. I had only met his acquaintance in passing until more recently. Though, he’s the sort it seems like no time has passed at all when you reacquaint.” he said.
“You met him before meeting my sisters and I?”
“Probably a few months before. He’s never really liked Astam, even now that it’s a larger city.”
Nobody had poked their head out the window. Lucas was concerned that nobody had heard the ring. He opened the door and walked back inside.
Esther shrugged. “Guess they’re just gonna—”
Locks turned and the inner door opened. A lady in vibrant silk pants of a sort answered the door.
“Names?” she asked.
“Lucas Buford and Esther Thompson,” Lucas said.
“Fancy. Don’t even need to check the list. William’s expecting you.”
Esther took a judgemental eye to the lady, whose attire couldn’t be more opposite her own if she’d attempted to do such a thing on purpose.
The stairs were long and steep. It was now obvious what took so long for their ring downstairs to be answered. Lucas still believed it would have been courteous to say hello out the window first.
Lucas took some chocolate, wrapped up in paper, out of his pocket and nibbled a piece. He turned to offer a piece to his companion.
Esther was trying carefully not to slip on the stairwell in her heels and coats.
He decided it was best not to distract her.
“Here we are,” said the lady in the vibrant pants.
The door opened slowly, and smoke oozed out of the room. If they didn’t know any better, they’d have assumed there was a fire hazard.
Lucas turned to Esther. “I think I know why they didn’t open the window to say hello now.”
“I thought you said you’d been to these parties.”
“Perhaps I visited the lamer, off-season affairs of his.”
Esther stared at Lucas in a what-have-you-gotten-me-into way, sideways and with an eyebrow raised.
They continued through the entryway and into the large parlor. Several groups were sitting around pipes of different sorts, or smoking pipes and such. Lucas wouldn’t have been surprised to see Abigail right about now. It’s primarily the reason he didn’t, himself, partake.
Esther found a spot on a small couch and motioned Lucas over. Lucas stopped observing the room to rejoin his guest. Just as he arrived, William appeared from a set of ornately blue doors.
“Lucas! How are you?” William said.
Lucas offered his mechanical hand for a shake. “Up and down, ol’ chap. Tonight’s a big up!”
“Brilliant, and who’s your lady friend, here?”
“William Bittersworth, may I introduce Miss Esther Thompson.”
Esther stood up to greet him.
William tilted his head and turned it towards Lucas in an almost comically owlish way. “Of the Astam Thompsons?”
Esther put her hand out to be greeted.
He turned his attention back to her and grabbed her hand. “It’s a pleasure, dear Miss Thompson.”
“Likewise,” she said.
“My condolences.”
“Pardon?” — she looked down at her clothes — “Oh yes. Clementine and Esther are cursed to survive the rest of our immediate family.”
William placed his other hand on hers and squeezed with both. “I hope that tonight helps you to embrace life again, both in it’s ups-and-downs, as Lucas put it.”
He let go of her hand, turned to the crowd and snapped his fingers a few times. A butler shuffled over with drinks. William grabbed a couple and handed them each a glass.
“Nothing quite like a proper taquilla,” he said.
“What’s in these?” Lucas asked.
“Well, it’s nothing like a proper tequila if that’s what you’re asking. By-the-by, did you happen to get me any chocolate?”
Lucas procured a small bag from his coat pockets. “This one’s a drink, mixed up with some tea. Perfect with hot water—”
“Or other things,” William finished, “I must be off. It was lovely to meet you, Miss Thompson.”
They sat with their hard drinks in hand and relaxed. The conversations around them were both relaxing and sensory overload.
Lucas watched Esther oversee and take in the different persons in the room. She caught him staring at her.
“What a delightful party. Fantastically exclusive,” she said.
“Exclusive? I suppose so.”
“Well, that’s Technocrat Tamworth’s son, the daughter of the Thelean ambassador, Technocrat Radigus himself, the former wife of the Ministry of Civilization’s Jason Letterman, the Titanian ambassador’s nephew, and so on, et cetera.”
“You’ve got a keen eye,” Lucas said.
“Father introduced us to a great deal of important people while he still managed the trains, and I never forget a face.”
Lucas was impressed. He sat back and enjoyed the tequila some more. He relaxed himself, making sure not to lean up against Esther too much.
A glass was being clinked with a spoon. The voices in the room faded one by one. William was doing the clinking with a spoon against his drink, making his way to the front of the room. This was the spot he and other guests normally spoke from at his parties, reciting poetry, gossip, and comedy.
William stopped clinking before the voices had all subsided. “Yes, I’m sure Yuri is very interested in your story Jeffrey, but I do quite demand your attention now.”
The gentlemen behind Lucas and Esther turned forward and, embarrassed, paused their conversation.
“Thank you,” William continued, “Tonight I charged each of you with a challenge to prepare something personal when you come up here. A definite departure from last month’s theme.
“I must reiterate that what is said, drank, and smoked within in these walls is strictly for the benefit and knowledge of those here in attendance. If one of our regulars is not here, then they must return here next time if they wish any hope of hearing about what goes on tonight. And if I hear a single word about blackmail again, I’ll take the same measures as I did last Firch.
“I don’t like redwork, but nobody ever said I was my own muscle. It’s simply to protect these gatherings. To allow them to continue.
“Let me introduce our first speaker tonight... She has no name, but she’s been called many things by the Prushian papers: the Pirate Queen, the Red-headed Skret, and the Torcher of Dustermark. Give her a big hand!”
The crowd clapped.It was customary for first-time speakers to be introduced with no name. It signaled the newness of the speaker and let the audience get to know them without preconceived notions. At least, those who didn’t already know the speaker.
Lucas certainly did not know this woman.
Esther leaned and whispered in Lucas’s ear. “Must be one of the people fleeing the oncoming imperial incursion down there. I hear it’s getting serious.”
The Prush woman walked up to the front of the room as the applause quieted.
“Thank you for listening. I will be reading a poem tonight.”
My child is lost.
My child is lost.
She cannot be found, I will not forget.
My child is lost.
My wild is lost.
The ashes of myself, lost to a bet.
My wild is lost.
My mild is lost.
Skret laughs at me, writhing in pain.
My mild is lost.
My child is lost.
Gorrn has taken my baby and man.
My child is lost.
My child is lost.
I am a desert woman. Destined to be dry.
The audience clapped.
Lucas thought back to Cordelia for a moment.
William returned to the front of the room. “The Gearford Wordsmith Society thanks you for your contribution.
“Our next guest was last here on our quietest night, but nonetheless has a name. He’s the Anthonious of Automata, the Clockwork Mogol,” — he turned his head and spoke smoothly and quickly — “Mr. Lucas Merriweather Buford.”
The room clapped. Lucas nervously stood up and took out parchment from his inside jacket while approaching the front of the parlor. William stepped back into his throne to listen to his friend recite.
Lucas looked up at the crowd and realized he no longer gave a damn what they might think of his words. The fact was that they were now his captive audience and had to hear what he had to say.
“Thank you for listening. I will be reading a letter, addressed to myself.”
Dear Lucas Merriweather Buford,
I am writing to inform you that you must continue forward. That change is inevitable, and that you must be the master of the changes in your life.
We have long lamented the reactionary decisions we’ve made. We’ve hired bounty hunters when our life was out of control. We’ve waited until our friends were in peril before we helped them.
That ends today, old friend. I know you better than I know myself. Do not run blindly into your fate, but walk with Tamarus - keep pace with him and decide your fate.
Your-self,
Lucas Merriweather Buford
The audience clapped.
William got up from his throne and whispered to Lucas. “Good show. You’ll have to regale me with the bounty hunter story sometime.”
Lucas smirked — “Not a chance.” — and walked away.
When Lucas turned and sat, William shot him a jokingly bemused look.
Lucas laughed.
The night went on and several speakers entertained the group. The pair drank themselves silly into the night. William was a gracious host and saw them off personally onto a carriage back to Astam.
Lucas wouldn’t remember climbing out of the carriage, nor walking upstairs and falling asleep.
Lucas awoke in his evening clothes to a loud banging from downstairs. He sat up stiff with a terrible headache which throbbed with every bang.
“What in Skret’s name is that!” he yelled.
A maid rushed into his room. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s your automaton, Bob, sir. He’s going to break the wall!”
“What?” — Lucas sprang up, which made him dizzy — “Water. Chocolate.”
She ran into the other room and grabbed both of these for him.
He quickly drank a glass of water and nibbled on the chocolate bar as he hurried downstairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, Lucas could see Bob in the entrance hall. Bob was running into the wall, stepping backwards, turning around, and running into the wall across the hall.
Lucas slowly approached Bob, staying just out of reach.
“What are you going to do, sir? Shall I do it for you?”
“Phoebe, Just stay there. It would take too long to explain.”
Lucas lunged toward the robot, just as it turned around, and grabbed the script-scroll on its back. He pulled some levels and a nob, which loostened the scroll from Bob’s scroll-reader. Bob stopped, and Lucas reached in to fiddle with some other switches before shutting the errant automaton down.
Lucas stood staring at the scroll in his hand and then at the mechanoid. “What the heck got into you?”
“Shall I contact the office to have them nab Bob, sir?”
“That would be best, yes. Go now, and tell them to have Tracey put this on my desk.”
Lucas handed the script-scroll over to his maid, Phoebe.
“Would you like me to fetch anything on my return trip?”
“No, thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a hot bath. And when you return, bring me some fresh clothes.”
“I should be a while, sir.”
“That’s fine. I’m nursing a hangover.”
Lucas walked back up the stairs and into the master bathroom.
He peeled off last night’s eveningwear while the bath was filling with hot water. His mechanical arm would take longer to remove without the maid’s help, but he’d only employed her for a few months now, and so could do it as he’d always done before her.
The help was greatly appreciated and he wondered why it took so long for him to hire permanent help. Augusta and Bob were great, to be sure, but if today was any example, he couldn’t always rely on automatons the same way as a proper person.
He lowered himself carefully into the bath, keeping his sensitive right arm out of the bath until it cooled a little. It was red and scarred from constantly being cooped up in the mechanical enclosure.
Lucas breathed in the steam and closed his eyes. The headache slowly eased to a low drilling pain.
Last night was fun, he thought.
The steam rose up, reminded him of the smoke-filled room at first, but then of his steam-powered machines. The humanoid automata he often called children.
What the heck happened to Bob’s programming?
Bob was supposed to fetch the paper and wake him up in the morning, news in hand. Bob had done this countless times over the past few years. It was odd that Bob should be failing to execute his programming now.
Lucas stretched out, his back and legs relaxing, and his headache subsiding. His eyes grew heavy, and he let both arms into the water now that it was a safer temperature.
***
“Wake up, Mr. Buford.”
Lucas squeezed his eyes, trying to coax them open. “Hrm?”
“You can’t fall asleep like that. You’re liable to drown, don’t you know?” Phoebe said.
“Sorry about that.”
“Got some fresh clothes for you here and a nice dry towel.”
“Wonderful. It’s about time I start my day.”
“I should say so, sir. It’s half past eleven.”
Lucas pulled himself up and then out of the water. The towel removed the layer of drip from his skin and what it couldn’t get was evaporating from the day’s heat already. He slipped into his clothes, which felt nice and clean.
The maid helped Lucas reattach his mechanical apparatus to his right arm. It took much less time to strap on and cinch up everything than it did to remove it earlier.
“They’ll be expecting you to take a look at the ol’ autom’.”
“And my breakfast?” Lucas said.
She sniffed the air. “All ready for you now if my nose isn’t lying. Adele was ready and waiting to cook.”
Indeed, the scent of breads and tea wafted its way upstairs rather easily. The food preparation scripts were working out very nicely. Lucas was teaching Adele how to cook different meals, which was an interesting programming challenge that really utilized her uniquely-dextrous hands.
Lucas straightened his jacket. “Alright. Slowest morning ever, your time is up!”
After getting some tea in his system, Lucas rode his steambike over to the office and headed upstairs to his office.
“Morning, Tracey,” Lucas said.
Tracey looked up from filing her nails. “Morning, boss. Bob was brought to your personal workshop this morning. You have a meeting at three with the mayor of Denbolt, you have a few telegraphs to read, and you’re overdue to review with Laurence.”
“Well, I’ll work my way backwards through that list, I think,” Lucas said.
Tracey went back to filing her nails. “Alright. I’ll leave the telegraphs on your desk.”
Lucas entered his office, threw his coat and hat onto the coat rack, turned and left for the stairs to the fourth floor where Laurence’s workshop would be.
Lucas had Laurence working on the second-instinct production models. Customer requests from Antiford and the Prush countries were split between the two of them. Lucas would periodically check in on Laurence, and not a single script left the building without him personally proofreading and running a script on a real Model A automaton.
Lucas reached the workshop door and knocked thrice.
The intern opened the door. “Ah, Mr. Buford! Just doing some debugging. Come in.”
Laurence hurried over to an automaton and switched it off as Lucas pushed open the door and walked in. Lucas found a chair in the corner.
“Let me see the script,” Lucas said.
Laurence was a little twitchy but grabbed the script-scroll from the machine and brought it over, handed it to Lucas and sat down. Lucas looked over the program. It was a bit like reading sheet music, in that most people would look at it as an alien language, while experts could visualize simply by glancing at the sheet. Lucas kept a quick note of all the memory addresses being manipulated and tried to check overall logic of the script. Lucas was marking with a pencil from time to time. Laurence sat there anxious for the verdict.
“And?” Laurence asked.
“Well, you have your conditional statements off by one in a couple places, and you’re moving the wrong motor right in the beginning, but it’s otherwise sound. You’re still careless, forgetting to check your work,” Lucas said.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Well, it’s better than the last few at least.”
They chuckled a little.
“I think you’re improving, just keep disciplined, Laurence,” Lucas said.
Laurence grabbed the script-scroll from him. “Thank you, sir.”
There was a pause.
“Sir—”
“So—“
They paused again, and Lucas gestured Laurence to continue.
“Sir, I was wondering if you’d let me learn on the third-instincts soon,” Laurence asked without asking.
Lucas adjusted his glasses and looked at the young man. “How about we wait another few weeks. You’re still having trouble within the limitations you have. It’s really easy to get third-instinct scripting wrong.”
“Okay, Mr. Buford. It’s just that I’ve been doing mostly the same thing over and over again.”
“Alright, I’ll try to see what I can give you to challenge you with. I think there was a request from a factory that seemed rather odd. I told them it would take some time to work out,” Lucas said.
“Thank you. Is that all?” Laurence asked.
Lucas stood up. “Yes, you can go home when you’ve rewritten the script.”
He was mostly happy with the intern, but it was tiresome having to do both proofreading of his work and do his own work. He missed his lead programmer, Miss Blauchman, who he’d sent on a mission overseas to find a scriptwriter for the Kuuvian office.
***
Lucas returned to his office downstairs and entered the adjoining workshop. He’d had his workshop separately before, but that only led to him getting the office messy - he’d bring work to the office to avoid going back and forth. They added a door between his office and the next and set that room up with tools and automatons. They actually added a support beam underneath, downstairs to counteract the added weight.
Timothy entered the workshop from the hallway. “What you need, boss?”
“Take a look at my old friend here, would you?”
“Sure thing. Having problems with him?” Timothy asked.
Lucas raised both eyebrows. “Yea, Bob was running into walls.”
Timothy walked up to Bob and leaned in. He inspected all the bits, bobs, sprockets, gears, and chains inside the automaton.
“What’d you see?” Lucas asked.
“Exactly what I’d expect to see. Some of the parts in here are coming up for replacement. There’s a lot of looseness in the mounting brackets for the script-scroll module. Nothing I’d say would make him act funny, but he certainly needs maintenance,” Timothy said.
“I’m thinking the A.D.D. Engine might be getting a bit old.”
“Can’t know without taking him apart, but yea, he’s the oldest automaton in the field.”
Lucas paused and tapped his finger on his bottom lip. “What do you think about a third-instinct upgrade?”
“You really want to dump that much money into him?” Timothy asked.
“Well he’s pretty close to a model A. It might give us a good idea of what it’ll be like if we upgrade any existing units.”
“I see. Hrm…”
“I think it’s just his time,” Lucas said.
Timothy sized up Bob, picturing the work it would take for the upgrades. “Give me a few days to run you a time estimate and bill of materials.”
“Thank you, Timothy. I know I’ve a bit of a soft spot for Bob.”
“I know,” Timothy said.
“Alright, I’ve got to get back to my desk,” Lucas said.
Lucas left the workshop for the office before Timothy was finished inspecting Bob. He walked over to the desk and grabbed a few telegraphs. The first one was from Meredith Blauchman over in Fallinbannao, Kuu.
TO — MR BUFORD
JUST SETTLED IN STOP WORKING ON PAORR SCRIPT ORDERS STOP STAFF HAS NOT BEEN ACCOMMODATING STOP THANKS FOR THE HOUSE
MS BLAUCHMAN
He hadn’t even seen the new house he had commissioned as his home-away-from-home. It was good that he was able to let Meredith and her girlfriend use the place while overseas. The profit from the Paorrian accounts more than covered the costs, which is why he sent Miss Blauchman to create their own script-scroll programming operation.
There were currently three people in the world who professionally created the script-scrolls and that was a bit of a risk for the company. There were some people familiar with older systems of instruction plates used on machines in Golah or Prush lands, but his scrolls were far more complex. Teaching Laurence was part of the overall plan, along with sending Meredith to talent scout in Kuu.
Lucas finished up his day, responding to the telegraphs and holding his meeting, trying to see if he and the town of Denbolt could benefit from doing business together. When he left late that night, he looked up to see that the lights were still on in Laurence’s office.
He’s working pretty hard. I need to figure out a bonus or something for him, Lucas thought.
Astam Junction shimmered in the sunset. Lucas had gone to work early because he couldn’t quite sleep. He was too excited for the evening.
His steambike peppered along smoothly. His grip on the handlebars was comfortable through the leather gloves. His goggles were a little tight over his glasses, but he didn’t mind it so much, as Miss Thompson’s grip was equally as tight on his waist. He weaved patiently around pedestrians and slowed as the crowds grew denser.
Lucas zoomed up to steambike parking. Esther hopped off, he dismounted, and then he fastened a chain around a post to keep the bike locked there.
Esther attempted to brush the sands off her skirt. “I’m absolutely filthy, Lucas. Perhaps we should take a carriage next time.”
“Nonsense! We are here to see a dirtball game, after all,” Lucas said.
He laughed and removed his goggles, placing them into one of the bike’s panniers.
“Well, I’ll dress less like a proper lady next time you want to drag me through the dust.”
Lucas smiled and held his left arm out, which she took and followed him inside. They walked over to their seats.
“Mr. Buford?”
Lucas turned around to see a familiar face. “Timothy?”
“Looks like we’re just a row above,” Timothy said.
“Good to see you out and about. And this is?” Lucas said.
“My wife. Lucas meet Mesi Webber, Mesi, this is Mr. Buford, my boss.”
Lucas shook her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, finally,” Mesi said.
“Likewise.”
Timothy gestured toward Esther.
“Ah yes, Timothy Webber, this is Esther Thompson. A… friend,” Lucas said.
There was a moment’s awkward pause. Timothy shook her hand, and then did Mesi.
“Wonderful,” Mesi said, “Excited for the game?”
Esther nodded. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to a game.”
Timothy made a defiant fist. “The Junction Jockeys are gonna woop the Rowe Raiders. A good payback for last season.”
Mesi mimed hitting a home-run and Timothy joined in with commentary. “Going, going, gone!”
Lucas and Esther laughed at their hijinks and sat down.
“Sausages! Popcorn! Ice Cold Soda!” an approaching vendor cried.
Lucas raised his hand.
“You, sir!” the vendor said.
Lucas took out his wallet. “Yes I’d like a sausage, sesame sticks, and two sodas.”
The vendor grabbed the items off his cart and walked over. He handed Lucas the sausage roll, filled with sweet chanka meat, peppers and onions. Lucas handed it to Esther, as they’d be sharing it. The snacks and drinks came next, which Lucas temporarily placed on the ground in front of their seats.
“That’ll be twenty ciam.”
Lucas pulled out twenty-five. “Here you go, good man.”
“Enjoy the ballgame!”
The vendor returned to his cart and walked up the stands. Lucas settled back into his seat and picked up his soda from the floor.
Esther was trying not to make a mess eating the sausage. “Mmm… It’s so warm and flavorful.”
“Here, let me get a bite,” Lucas said.
The game opened up with rousing organ music, standing for the Antifordian national anthem, and some colorful commentary from the announcer. While the teams broke out gadget after gadget, once considered off-brand cheating, now an integral part of the sport, Lucas dwelled on his introduction of his… friend.
What are we? Is it appropriate for a windower to court his late wife’s sister? Lucas thought.
It was a rare enough situation that the social rules weren’t obvious.
The crowd roared as the auto-bat smacked the dirtball into the stands and the Junction Jockeys’ striker ran around the bases. The hurler on the mound was swearing up a storm.
Lucas and Esther stood up to cheer with the rest of the crowd. Lucas turned around to see Timothy and his wife perform some victory dance they must have rehearsed before, and then to his… friend. Esther smiled warmly at him. His heart fluttered.
The roaring of the crowd slowly died. The game was now tied. Both teams had played excellently and between auto-bats and extendo-gloves, their plays grew more interesting each round. In the seventh inning, one of the Raider’s striker’s steam-powered offroad-rollerskates exploded, forcing them to take an out.
It was risky introducing a new gizmo untested, but it drove the game’s sponsors wild. They’d been advertising its introduction for a month leading up to the game, the entire time tickets were on sale. Lucas was considering sponsoring this particular stadium considering it was so close to the Buford Automaton Company headquarters. It would be good publicity. Perhaps he could wait to do it until he opened the Automata Engineering Academy.
The game ended with a crushing defeat in the last inning by the Rowe Raiders.
“That’s it folks! You saw it here! The Rowe Raiders maintain their unbeatable winning streak despite malfunctions on the field!” the announcer said.
Everyone got up from their seats to head home. Lucas turned to say goodnight to his friends.
Mesi made an animated ‘phew’. “Next time, eh?”
“It was certainly exciting!” Lucas replied.
Timothy shook Lucas’s hand. “See you at work?”
“Bright and early, friend,” Lucas replied.
Timothy raised an eyebrow. “Suuuure.”
Lucas and Timothy laughed.
“It was wonderful meeting you two,” Esther said.
Timothy put his hat on and tipped it. “Likewise, miss Thompson”
“Yes, absolutely,” Mesi said.
Lucas and Esther lost the couple in the crowds exiting the stadium and nearly lost each other. Esther grabbed onto Lucas’s left hand and he used his mechanical one as a shield in front of them to clear a path between those who were stopped to chat and those who rushed to leave. Through the archway, around the hallways underneath the seats, and out the doors to the town, they went.
Lucas retrieved his goggles and hat from the panniers, unlocked the chain from the post, and mounted the steam-bike.
“Let’s get you home shall we?” Lucas said.
Esther was beaming. “If we must. That was such an exciting spectacle! I don’t know why it’s been so long since I’ve last been to a dirtball game.”
She sat side saddle on the back as the bike warmed up. The engine kicked up a bit of steam and Lucas backed up out of the spot. The crowd thinned out in front of them and Lucas sped forward through the city streets.
They cruised through the main thoroughfares toward the old Thompson estate. Lucas’s heart pounded as Esther squeezed tight. He drove a little faster than normal so that she would have to hold on tighter. They rolled up the long driveway into the garage when Lucas got an idea.
He kicked the bike into the wrong gear just as they pulled in so that it would sputter and steam and jerk. The bike thrusted awkwardly forward, thrashing about. Lucas switched the bike off.
“Up,” Lucas said.
“What’s wrong?” Esther asked.
She hopped off quickly. Lucas got off and rather dramatically threw his goggles and hat off. He knelt down pretending to inspect the burning hot boiler, then stood up and kicked it.
“I don’t know.” — Lucas made up some technobabble, knowing full-well Esther knew nothing about mechanics — “It must be the aspirating parambulator. Maybe it got too low on water and corroded the throttling valve.”
“Oh my,” Esther said.
“Would you mind…”
“Shall I call you a taxi?”
“Would you mind I stay the night and fix up my bike in the morning?” Lucas asked.
Esther paused for a moment, lips pursed pensively. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“It’s a bit empty in the house, now that Clementine has married. It’ll be nice having a man about the place for a night,” she said.
Esther unlocked the door to the house and led him by the hand to the parlor.
They were greeted by a butler. “Company, miss Thompson?”
Esther removed her jacket and gloves and handed them to the butler. “Yes, Raulph. Have the maids prepare the guest room, bring us some of the iced tea and chocolates and then allow Mr. Buford and I some privacy.”
“Very good, mam’selle.”
The butler disappeared into the other room.
Ether sat down on a small couch by the fireplace and Lucas followed suit. He sat down with his arms on his lap.
“How odd, that the steam-bike would quit on us just as we rolled into the garage, Mr. Buford,” she said.
Lucas stretched out his back. “Well, it must have been a problem provoked at lower speeds.”
Esther smirked at him.
The butler returned, placing refreshments in front of them. “Will that be all, mam’selle?”
“Yes, have the staff retired?”
“Yes, mam’selle.”
“Then you should as well. Goodnight, Raulph,” She said.
The butler bowed. “Thank you. May yours be as well, mam’selle.”
Esther shooed him away with her eyes and the looked happily back at Lucas.
Lucas took up one of the glasses of iced tea and drank at least half. He was parched.
“Won’t you take your mechanical arm off? It must be relaxing to take all that pressure off at the end of the day,” Esther asked.
Lucas lifted his right arm and looked at it. He wasn’t used to removing it often in front of people, but he hardly wanted to sour the mood by declining.
Esther reached for his shoulder. “Here, let me help you.”
Lucas shifted slightly on the seat so she could reach easier.
“I recall when you first met my sisters and I, you were wearing a ghastly tool upon this arm,” she said.
“Well, it was better than the hooks most people had to use at the time,” Lucas said.
“A far deal more intimidating,” — Esther unbuckled the straps while he loosened the mechanisms — “Though, I’d never have used that word to describe your awkward flirtations.”
They chuckled.
The hand went limp and lifeless as they detached it. She placed it on a nearby chair for him.
“Thanks,” Lucas said.
Esther leaned over onto his freshly unlocked shoulder. “What a fantastic sport that was.”
“Dirtball?”
“Oh, yes. I just don’t remember it being so exciting!”
Lucas smiled and adjusted his shoulder slightly for comfort. “Well it’s certainly become a race to see who can afford the strangest devices, nowadays.”
“Modern engineering is a marvel, wouldn’t you say... Lucas?”
“Yea.”
They sat by the fire discussing the game’s highlights, their visions of the future, and the state of things in Astam Junction. There were candles lit for each of them on the table to walk towards their separate sleeping quarters.
TO — MS BLAUCHMAN
BUSINESS IS GREAT STOP PRUSH ORDERS GROWING STOP INTERN MAKES MISTAKES OFTEN STILL STOP CANNOT WAIT FOR YOUR RETURN STOP BOB WILL UPGRADE TO THIRD INSTINCT
MR BUFORD
Lucas walked down the hallways of Buford Automaton to Timothy Webber’s workshop. There were sounds of an automaton’s boiler running loudly overtime as he walked in.
“How’s he coming along?” Lucas asked.
Timothy peered his head around to see who it was. He was sitting on a high stool, arched over Bob with a couple of tools and goggles over his eyes. Bob was suspended by some cables dropping down from the ceiling and a harness coming up from the floor.
Timothy waved and shut off the small steam engine. He stood up and placed his goggles and instruments upon a table by the wall.
“What can I do for you, boss?” Timothy asked.
Lucas realized he hadn’t been heard. “I wanted to know how our old friend here was, doctor.”
Timothy smirked at the idea that he was a doctor operating on a person. “Well, I’ve replaced a lot of the old parts, and the parts for the third-instinct scroll-reader came in sooner than I thought, so that’s nearly done.”
“So, he’ll walk again?” Lucas asked.
“Hopefully not into any walls, but yes. I’m still getting some errors when I try to run scripts, though, so no promises. I want to run a couple more tests, try and figure out what’s causing the bad reads… or bad execution, I’m not really sure,” Timothy said.
“Maybe I can make time in my schedule tomorrow to help debug it. Maybe the new A.D.D. engine isn’t connecting properly.”
The two men looked over the automaton for a quiet moment.
“Hey boss.”
“Hm?”
“It’s about the other night. Well, it must have been weeks now. I haven’t seen you with a… ‘friend’ before. As in, never.” Timothy said.
“Mr. Webber, what are you getting at?” Lucas said.
Timothy sat straight, surprised by the defensive formality. “I just think it’s nice is all. Not getting at anything.”
“Oh,” — Lucas dropped his shoulders — “yes, it has been rather nice.”
Timothy walked over to the bench and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. “So what’s her story? How did you meet?”
“We were good friends long ago. We met not long after I came to town. She… she was my late wife’s sister.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Is that—?” Lucas asked.
“No, no. It’s fair game. A cousin of Mesi’s had something similar happen to her back in Thelo.”
Lucas breathed deeply. He had been a bit nervous about the situation being possibly taboo. “Well the thing is that after I started this company and started getting involved with some work in Gearford, I didn’t have much time for friends outside of Delia.”
“You don’t need to spill all your guts to me,” Timothy said.
“Sorry, too much?” Lucas asked.
“Naw. I’m just not used to seeing you have a personal life, boss.”
Timothy patted Lucas on the back.
Lucas knocked on Bob’s torso with his right, mechanical hand which made a unique clanking through the room. “Take him up to my workshop when you’re done.”
The park was nice. Not as green as some of the upscale gardens in Gearford. The opulence of that might start riots in this town. However, there was a small, artificial pond, and plenty of benches and trees for shade.
Today, Lucas informed Tracey he’d be taking an extended lunch. Tracey was no stranger to Mr. Buford’s odd hours. Often either much longer or much shorter than a normal work day.
Lucas sat with Esther on a picnic blanket, eating sandwiches and tea. Across the pond from them, children were playing settlers and demons - making shooting noises and jabbing with imaginary spears. The sandwich was lovely, though it reminded Lucas that he’d not been back to the Black Leaf and Earl in some time. Gearford was simply a little too far for a casual lunchtime.
Esther was in the middle of a story. “So that’s when I told the store clerk I didn’t want it after all—”
“How embarrassing!” Lucas said.
“Exactly. I wish I’d known what it was before picking the thing up.”
“Well, hopefully the rest of the day wasn’t so dramatic.”
“Mell’s wish, no.”
She returned to her meal, neglected during her story. The sun was hot, but the shade was nice.Lucas wished, sometimes, that the air force would fly overhead with gigantic parasols over Antiford’s major industrial centers. The steam and body heat produced by these urban areas only added to the nation’s already exhausting temperature. He wondered just how practical that actually was considering airspace traffic and the logistics of flying a craft with that much area. He forced it out of his mind, as he’d more important problems to solve.
He thought back to his automatons.
They were gearing up to relaunch the model J based on Jacques and Adele, though second-instinct for cost reasons. It was a model made for the upper class to replace extra staff, but it never caught on, as it was less useful and more expensive than a common scullery maid. Much of the research that had been going into those two automatons was going directly into improving the usefulness of a house staff automaton.
“Esther,” Lucas said, “I’d like to introduce you to my personal automatons.”
“Oh?” she asked.
“Well you’ve never met them have you?”
“No, I couldn’t say I have.”
Esther looked at Lucas while sipping tea. She was trying to figure out what brought on this sudden desire to involve her in his work.
“Do you have plans on Mellday?” Lucas asked.
“Nothing that can’t be moved.”
“Wonderful. You can come visit the office around noon then?”
She sat up and smiled at him. “Well, now I’m excited.”
They ate a bit more before packing it up. Esther put the blanket in the basket and hugged him off. Lucas strolled back towards the office.
His automatons were important to him. They were his children, at least - the four he’d personally owned and worked on were: Bob, Augusta, Jacques, and Adele. If he wished to get closer to Esther, he’d have to share that part of him with her.
Suddenly, Lucas noticed something at the end of the street.
Is that Bob?
The mechanical figure disappeared in the crowd onto a side alley.
Lucas rushed over to see if it was his imagination or not.
Passing one block.
Then, the next.
And then, the next.
Lucas reached the alleyway. It was a dead end. There was no automaton in sight.
That was odd, Lucas thought to himself.
Lucas continued onwards, stopping into “Adam’s Chocolates” along the way. The bell on the door rang as he entered.
“My favorite customer!” the clerk from behind the desk said.
“Afternoon, Adam. I’d like a bar of dark chocolate,” Lucas said.
“Would you like to try our mongongo nut bar, or maybe our apple cactus truffles?”
Lucas fumbled with his wallet a bit, looked back out towards the street, and then back to Adam. “Um, sure, yea. Throw them both in the bag.”
“Four of the truffles?” Adam asked.
“Sure. No, two, and throw in a few of the sesame chocolate snaps.”
He wrapped up the chocolates from the case, weighed them, and then put the bag on the counter. “That’s twenty-one fourty.”
Lucas handed him some bills and waited for his change. “You didn’t happen to spot an automaton pass by the shop did you?”
“Shiny silver thing?”
“Yes”
“Nope. Sorry.”
Adam handed him his change.
Lucas pocketed it, grabbed his bag of chocolates, and tipped his hat. “Well, thanks, anyways. Good day.”
When he returned to the office, he bumped into Timothy on his way to his office.
“Timothy,” Lucas said.
“Boss, how are you?” Timothy asked.
“Perturbed, actually. Did you take Bob out of the office today?”
“No. I haven’t touched him since I brought him up to your workshop a few days ago. Did you want to go work on him finally?”
Lucas grimaced. “Sorry about that, I’ve been caught up in foreign affairs the past few days. No… I— I just thought I saw Bob roaming around the town just now.”
Timothy pointed down the hall. “Well he should be in your workshop, right?”
“Yea, I was just about to go check.”
The two gentlemen walked briskly down the corridor.
The door to the workshop was slightly ajar. Not exactly unusual, though. However, when they pushed it open they found… Bob. The automaton was standing there as they’d expected. Lucas tried to remember if there was anything different about him, but he’d honestly not been in the room in a couple days.
“Sorry about that,” Lucas said.
“No, it’s fine. It was a hot one, perhaps it was just a trick of the eye.”
“Yea, that’s probably all it was. I’ve been distractible.”
Timothy smirked. “Well that’s been obvious, sir.”
Lucas gave him an unamused look. “Alright, fun’s over. Back to work.”
Timothy laughed.
Lucas went next door to his office to sort out some of the requests from the Prush Empire. There were several requests for script-scrolls, and he wasn’t really ready for them all to come in like this. It was bad enough writing them, but paying the couriers to go into war-torn Prush towns was getting a bit much.
Mellday came, and while Lucas would normally visit Gearford for various errands. Today, he went to the office with Adele to meet up with Jacques and wait for Esther in the lobby.
It was nearly noon, and Lucas sat in a chair in the lobby. Adele sat next to him in one of her finest dresses. She had been dressed in a maid’s clothes recently, but Lucas didn’t want to introduce her to Esther as just a maid. Jacques stood by them in a simple suit.
Esther knocked on the door. Lucas jumped up from his chair and walked to the door.
“Coming!” he yelled out.
He opened the door, and there stood Esther. Not in black, but wearing a deep purple dress and a colorful, red hat.
Lucas stepped back for a second to look at her. “Wow.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?” she asked.
“But of course!”
Lucas held the door, gesturing her inside and shut it behind him.
She smiled to see the nicely dressed mechanoids. “So, these are the automatons you wanted to… introduce me to?”
“Yes. This is Jacques.”
Esther held her hand up slightly and looked at Lucas for confirmation that she could expect to be greeted in the normal way. Lucas nodded in approval. She reached her hand out and Jacques’s hand reached out to hers. Jacques bowed slightly and the speaker in his head activated. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Esther retracted her hand to her chest. “Oh, my! Can they all do that?”
“Not quite. Jacques is our prototype for speech synthesis. We pair each script we write for him with several vinyl recording drums.”
Jacques slowly reached up to his hat, lifted and tipped it.
Esther giggled.
Jacques backed away and Adele hopped up. Esther caught Lucas moving his hands about. Adele walked forward.
“And how do you do?” Esther said.
Esther curtsied and stared intently at the large doll. Adele looked up at Lucas for instruction.
Lucas signed to the little automaton. “This, little moon, is my lady friend, say your first hello.”
Adele turned to Esther and curtsied and waved hello.
“She’s charming. And she doesn’t talk?” Esther said.
“In a way. You might have noticed her signing with me. She had extra-dexterous fingers that let her express with them a great deal more than the other automatons.”
Esther surprised Lucas with a bubbly hug. “This is amazing!”
“There’s one more, but I didn’t want to move him from my workshop,” Lucas said.
He led her up the stairs and down the hall.
“Now ‘Bob’ is the absolute oldest automaton we have.”
Esther perked up, “Wasn’t that the remote-controlled handyman you used back at Mrs. Bittersworth’s—”
“Shop! You remember!”
The two walked more excitedly now, but when they got to the room, the door was open and the room was empty.
Lucas looked worried. “Where could he have—”
A crashing sound came from downstairs. They were supposed to have been alone today. Lucas didn’t ask his employees to come to work on Melldays or Liedays. This wasn’t a factory job.
“It’s coming from the lobby, where we just were!” she exclaimed.
They hurried back the way they came and when they arrived back downstairs, the door was wide open.
Lucas rushed over to Adele and asked in sign. “Where did big brother go?”
Adele pointed out the door. Lucas ran outside and Esther gathered her skirts and followed.
“What? What did you two say?” Esther asked.
“It was definitely Bob who ran out this door!” Lucas explained.
They ran down a few blocks, and then Lucas spotted his old robotic friend. Bob clumsily opens his boiler and refills it with the water from a bucket on the side of the road. Lucas stops to watch the strange spectacle. Esther catches up.
“Is that something your automatons normally do?” she asked.
Lucas squints, confused and amazed at Bob. “No… not at all… I’ve never programmed any of them to refuel themselves in any way…”
“Well, then why is Bob doing it?”
“That ‘s a good question.”
The two walk closer, at a normal pace, since Bob seemed to stop on the spot.
An older gentleman opened up his door with a shotgun in hand. He blasted Bob, who tipped over and spasmed on the ground.
Lucas sprinted forward. “Stop! Please!”
“Damn thief! You blasted wet pocketed maniac!” the old man exclaimed.
Lucas and Esther caught up with the scene. The old man pointed his gun at them.
“I’ll pay you back!” Lucas exclaimed.
The old man shook his gun to scare them. They put their hands forward as if to say “wait”.
“Your stupid tin cans can’t just take people’s hard-earned water!” the old man yelled.
Lucas raised his hand slightly higher. “Sir, I don’t know who told my machine to do that. It’s not something we normally do. I’m very sorry.”
Esther was scared frozen.
The old man held his hand out. “Well, pay up, rich man!”
“I don’t carry—”
“Pay up!”
Lucas fumbled around for his wallet. He found the thing, opened it up and found the cash he had left today. It wasn’t much, but it’d certainly pay for one jug of water. “Here. Now put that weapon away and let me collect my machine. I’ll have to return because you’ve ruined it’s ability to walk itself back.”
“Good enough for me,” — the old man swiped the ciams from Lucas and turned away back towards the building — “Stupid automabobbles…”
Lucas knelt down and switched Bob off, so that he’s stop flailing.
Esther put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Lucas turned his old friend over. He inspected the bullet wounds in the chest. The insignia for Buford Automaton was unharmed, but all around it was marred or punctured. Bob’s head suffered a few hits in the cheek and an eye. The brain was punctured. Strange fluid spilled out of the A.D.D. engine. Lucas unscrewed one of the eyes from its socket to check the full extent. He sighed and mustered just enough breath to speak. “He’s… he’s too far gone.”
He went numb to the outside world, lost himself in thought.
Esther called out for a taxi back to the office. She called Timothy to organize men to collect Bob. Bob came back on the back of a truck bed. Lucas went back to his office. He sat there, apologized to Esther and asked her to leave him to his thoughts. The moment of gunfire replayed in his head. Timothy came by, but seeing the shock in Lucas’s eyes, he simply placed the script-scroll from Bob on his desk, walked away, and closed the door behind him.
Lucas inspected the script-scroll for a while, and then placed his head in his hands.
Esther returned again when it grew dark outside. She had two cups and a large thermos. “Lucas?”
…
“Lucas?” Esther said.
He snapped out of it, finally. “Esther? What have you brought with you?”
“A little something from Adam’s Chocolates.”
She moved aside some paperwork and gizmos and placed the cups down. She unscrewed the bottle and poured a hot, dark-brown liquid.
She handed the cup to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
Lucas sipped it. It was a rich, drinking chocolate. He closed his eyes and smiled with a deep gladness that cut through the grief. “Thank you.”
“How’ve you been holding up?”
“Still in shock.”
She took a sip of hers and licked her lips. She was pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Do you discover what your automaton was doing? Err… why it was doing that?”
“Yea,” — Lucas picked up the scroll on his desk — “This script. It’s not old, and I didn’t write it.”
“Which means?” she asked.
“The intern. He’s been bored, asking for a challenge. He’s been working late. Must have been sneaking into my workshop to use Bob’s new script-scroll system.”
“Are you—”
“No, no. He may have mucked up some things, but his ideas were good,” Lucas said.
They drank from their cups again and Lucas got up from his desk.
“Would you like some company, tonight?” Esther asked.
“Absolutely.”
Lucas stood at the podium in front of the courtyard. His employees were all gathered tightly. Esther and Timothy sat on chairs behind him. A large sheet hid something tall underneath it just behind them. He addressed the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Buford Automaton Company!
“Some of you may have heard from the papers about an altercation with one of my personal automaton a few days ago. My old friend, Bob the automaton, was shot. While this is not beyond repair, this old mechanoid has been patched, upgraded, and polished for a very long time.
“Bob was built as a remotely controlled handyman ten years ago. There are few parts left of the original, and I’ve decided to stop before there isn’t a single bolt of that first humanoid automaton I built.
“Today marks this company’s fifth anniversary. To commemorate this special occasion, I’ve decided to erect a very special statue.”
Some men pulled on the curtain to reveal a bright bronze statue of Bob. The crowd cheered and clapped.
“We cleaned him up and bronzed him. Bob will be there as a reminder of our humble beginnings!”
Lucas paused for a moment while the crowd clapped again.
“Now, employees of Buford Automaton. I ask you to look to the future. My decision to decommission the old machine was an act toward this goal. And so is this gesture,” — He held up a check — “You’re all getting bonuses to celebrate the occasion. Continue to work hard, moving us forward. Thank you!”
His last words were drowned out by cheering. He had saved the bonuses for last, knowing that he’d not be able to get another word in edgewise afterwards.
Lucas turned to his friends behind him.
Esther stood up and hugged him. “That was wonderful.”
“Thanks,” Lucas said.
Timothy shook his hand. “Wow, a bonus?”
“Yea, well, I’ve been paying myself a bit much lately since the money stopped being so bad. It’s a start.”
“You going to talk with Laurence?” Timothy asked.
“Oh! Right!”
Lucas turned to the crowd, straining to stop his intern in the crowd. Having missed him, he returned to the two friends.
Esther grabbed Lucas’s hand. “What were you going to say to your intern?”
“I have an opportunity for him.”
***
Lucas knocked on Laurence’s door and let himself in.
“Boss?” Laurence said.
“Laurence, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Sir, I— I have to confess that—”
Lucas interrupted him. “I know.”
Laurence looked terrified. “I— I’m—”
“Calm down and listen for a second.”
Lucas stood there, waiting for something. Laurence was scared and looked ready to run out the door.
Lucas motioned to the seat. “Sit. It’s okay.”
They sat down.
Lucas continued. “Your script was very, very clever.”
“Thank you.”
“It also worked very well. You made only one mistake.”
“Was it the memory addresses again? I swear I’m doing it by the book!” Laurence defended.
“The book I wrote wasn’t very good and Meredith will be the first to tell you that. No, it wasn’t a syntax problem, it was a social one… I almost got shot because the automaton was grabbing water it didn’t have any right to.”
Laurence looked down with his head, and then back up with his eyes. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t going to let Bob leave that day, but… well you were here on a Mellday and I panicked.”
“Yea. That was a bit spooky. Look, I’m not here to reprimand you. A word of caution about doing things without permission, perhaps,” Lucas said.
“Yes, sir,” Laurence said.
“I have an opportunity for you.”
The intern sat up and looked at Lucas. “An opportunity?”
“Yes. I’ve mentioned I’ve been having trouble with our southern customers?”
“I think I remember that.”
“Well, the Prush Emperor has been requesting we station someone in their camp to write scripts for them,” — Lucas held his hand up — “Now you do not have to take this position—”
Laurence spoke with abrupt confidence. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” Lucas asked.
“Yes! I would love to! I’ve been following coverage of the war and I’ve been very proud of our support for the imperials.”
“You understand how dangerous this is?” Lucas asked.
Laurence stood up and put his hand out to shake.
Lucas stood up and shook it with his big mechanical mitt.
“Sir, I won’t let Buford Automaton or the Emperor down!”
Lucas was a little taken aback. “Well, thank you for taking this position. I’ll have your supplies loaded up and ask for a convoy safely down there from their men.”
Laurence released Lucas from his exuberant shake. “Sir, thank you.”
“How about you take the rest of the day off? Let this soak in. Think it over a little more. Tell your family. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow and you can explain some of the routines you wrote into that script.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
That night, Lucas took Esther out to eat Argenstrath. It was an upscale establishment that specialized in diamontian cuisine, seafood, diamontian twists on chanka dishes, and wine.
“And he just jumped for the job? Not a moment’s hesitation?” Esther asked.
“He did,” Lucas said.
“But it’s a war zone!”
“I know it. I was questioning whether it was even a good idea to offer it to him, but—”
Esther laughed. “You’re terrible. That poor boy.”
“Well, he’ll earn a hero’s ransom should that war ever end with the deal I worked out.”
“People are questioning whether an Antifordian company should be investing so much in an anti-Technocratic rebel, Mr. Buford.”
She would occasionally say “Mister Buford” in a haughty, jesting way the past few weeks. It was her way of mocking his dramatic nature.
Lucas put his finger in front of his mouth for a moment. “Hush, I don’t need that sort of talk overheard, mam’selle.”
They laughed and drank wine. They slowly made progress on their fancy dishes of food.
Esther patted the cloth napkin on her mouth. “So, I think I’m ready to get into some investing. My father made some good investments in his later years and it’s the reason I’ve not had to work a day in my life.”
“He was a smart man,” Lucas said.
“So I think that my first act is to manage the dirtball team in town. I want to own it.”
Lucas almost spit out his wine. “You want to own the team?”
“The sport is wonderful, and there’s nothing to a Thompson quite like Astam pride.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“There’s a few more ideas I have. I’d like to play the stocks, but don’t worry. I’ll hire an advisor.”
“Spending money to make money?” Lucas asked.
“Precisely,” Esther said.
“Well, that’s wonderful. I look forward to your dirtball team ownership and more.”
They clinked glasses.
“Well, I, for one, am looking forward to Ms. Blauchman’s return to Antiford,” Lucas said, “It seems she found someone to handle the script orders on our behalf over there. With Laurence going into the Prush lands, I’m going to need help.”
“I’d very much like to meet this young woman you continuously praise.”
“Well, I haven’t mentioned that her personality is a bit acerbic. Her lady, Felicity, is considerably more approachable. I do hope you get along, though.”
The food on their plates had all but disappeared, and the wine was running low.
Esther poured herself the last of the bottle, only reaching half her glass. “Would you like to walk with me down by in Argenshire?”
“We’re not too far, sure.”
So Lucas paid the bill and they began their walk through the town.
“Esther,” said Lucas.
“Yes, Lucas?”
He stopped her. She looked at him.
“I think I love you.”
She smiled. “Well, Mr. Buford, you had better decide quick, because I’m certain that I love you.”