Read Photographs & Phantoms for Free Online

tried to regain a grip on her sanity. Mostly, she couldn’t drag her attention away from the man across the table.
    “Amazing how well you’ve managed to articulate the fingers for fine detail. The wires are controlled by the nerves in your upper arm?” Kendall appeared genuinely interested in the sergeant’s work.
    “Yes, they’ve been surgically attached, so the base unit of the arm isn’t detachable. I can, however, swap out the fingers for specific tools if necessary.” Peterson beamed, enjoying the attention. He rolled up his coat and shirtsleeve to show off the elaborate network of bronze plating, iron “bones,” copper wiring and pneumatic pistons. A large ruby ring in an intricate gold setting was set into the actual framework of the middle finger. Four smaller sapphires had originally flanked it. But now there were two on one side, and only one plus an empty setting on the other. Amy wondered when that had happened. It had been there the last time she’d paid any attention to the ring.
    “Is the ruby—I assume it’s a gem and not glass—a part of the structure or merely ornamentation? It’s an excellent piece. Indian?”
    Amy had wondered that herself—why the man wore such an obviously valuable ring on his mechanical hand rather than his flesh-and-blood one. Moreover, why hadn’t he sold it? The square-cut, flawless stone and the gold setting together would probably pay for a modest house on a street like this one.
    Peterson nodded. “It’s a souvenir of sorts, from a hellhole outside Calcutta—a reminder of my glory days, as it were. I removed it from the body of the bandit who took my arm, so it seemed apropos to build it into the prosthesis rather than wearing it normally.”
    “I understand,” Kendall said. “I spent some time based out of Bombay. Lost a number of good friends, some to enemy soldiers, but more to wandering brigands.”
    “You were military?” Peterson looked up and down Kendall’s expensively clad form with one eyebrow raised. “Officer, I assume?”
    Kendall shook his head. “Diplomatic attaché, actually. As an only son, I was asked rather pointedly not to purchase a commission, but I did manage to get myself in the thick of things a time or two—which I’d rather my mother not know about.”
    “Don’t blame you there, old chap.” Peterson laughed, but there was no warmth in it. Some sort of challenge was brewing. “Best to keep some things from the ladies’ ears. Right, Saunders?”
    The old sailor chuckled and rubbed his bristly white mustache. “Aye, that it is, boys. Still, the fair sex deserves to know what goes on in the world. Did my share of fighting, too, you know. Pirates, mainly. Not so different from bandits on horseback or today’s airship marauders.”
    “Weren’t you at Trafalgar, Mr. Saunders?” Amy never tired of hearing his stories, even if they were the same ones over and over. “That wasn’t fighting pirates, now, was it?”
    “No, that was a proper battle—proper nightmare it was. Midshipman, I was then, if you can believe it—sixteen years old and just promoted from cabin boy. Fifty years ago, now.” With that, he was off, taking the conversation away from any possible confrontation between the two younger men.
    If only she could transfer her attention as easily. Honestly, all she could think about was Kendall’s kiss. If they didn’t solve the problem so he could return home soon, she was liable to find herself in a very great deal of trouble.
     
    Kendall paced restlessly in his small but pleasant room at Mrs. Bennett’s. He’d spent another hour after supper going through Amy’s equipment and her studio, and he’d found nothing new. Nothing but a vague, oily sense of unease on the back of his neck. He could tell there was something here, something malevolent, but nothing he’d encountered before. Quite honestly he longed for something simple, like Mr. Saunders’s pirates or a blood-sucking vampyre. Anything he