Q is for Quizzical

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Clockwork Nessie, Part 14

While Robert made a hard left turn to where a small cabinet sat, I gazed beyond him into the massive space overcrowded with bits of machinery, tools and tables. In the back corner, next to the opened barn door, sat a massive coal bin.

I threw away all pretense of stealth and entered the area, my face upturned to peruse the loft. A long silver column that grew in circumference as it neared the floor, dangled from the rafters. Triangular plates traversed the cylinder’s length, exactly like the coal-eating creature’s. Green bits of seaweed clung to several of the protrusions. The column connected to the front of a capsule approximately four by six feet. A tail extended from the rear end, except the capsule’s appendage possessed a series of propellers down its length of nearly five feet, with a tapering diameter of eighteen to six inches.

A throat being cleared jerked my attention away from the… What was it, anyway? It couldn’t have been the same creature I encountered earlier. How could it have reached Loch Ness? The Caledonian Canal ran nowhere near Papa’s cave and no one knew of any subterranean passageways between the loch and the coast.

(To Be Continued) a2z-2013-badge-001_5bmed5d

P is for Perspicacious

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Clockwork Nessie, Part 13

“I go by Lizzie.” I took his hand, and a current of awareness buzzed through me. “Rankine? I see. I have many questions.” I eyed Thomas. “But I need to speak with you in private. Might we perhaps go inside your…facility?”

“I’ll wait right here, Miss. Give us a whistle or call if you need anything.” Thomas rolled his shoulders back and directed what appeared to be a warning glare at my father’s partner.

Robert ran a hand through his unruly hair, betraying the cause of its unkempt status. “Of course. This way, please, Miss… er, Lizzie.”

Inside, the front part of the building functioned as an office. Two desks sat in front of freestanding bookcases that served as makeshift walls to enclose the area. Files lay stacked in sloppy piles throughout. The room smelled of ancient hay and dust, fine particulates winking in the sunlight that streamed through the high windows.

Robert scurried ahead to clear off two chairs for us to occupy. He spoke to me over his shoulder as he moved. “I’d offer you tea, but I’m afraid I’ve only water and whiskey.”

“Whiskey is fine.”

He whipped around, his arms full of books and papers, his mouth agape. “Oh. Right. I’ll just put these…” The contents of his arms found a temporary home on the surface of a desk. Robert slipped through a narrow passage into the space behind the office.

Too curious to remain stationary, I rose and tiptoed in his wake to discover what hid behind the bookcases.

(To Be Continued) a2z-2013-badge-001_5bmed5d