The City in the Sky

Dr. Joshua Drakolisk’s office was conveniently located in the basement of the MCA building. It was from here that he operated his private practice while carrying out his duties as Primary Coroner for the Crown. Officially, it was said, his office was in the basement because the slightly cooler temps aided in the preservation of the bodies he was required to inspect and retain until they could be assigned to eternal rest. Unofficially it was because no one could stomach the onslaught to the senses created by the nature of such work. Even Mulligan, who had been exposed to similar things on a regular occasion, felt a certain chill every time he paid the doctor a visit. It came as no surprise to him that the place had earned the moniker “the catacombs”. Because of its subterranean location, there were no windows. Instead the long room was illuminated by gas lanterns which were suspended from the low ceiling over the elevated stone slabs (some of which were occupied) that jutted in regular intervals from either wall. The door on the far end of the room led to the doctor’s office in which Mulligan now sat. In keeping with the theme, the office itself was repository of the bizarre. The walls were painted a deep shade of red. Tacked to them were a battery of the usual documents of certification and anatomical posters, as well as several graphic photographs related to cases in which the doctor was currently involved. The desk held a collection of sample pieces of clockwork based transplant hardware. Mulligan had often thought, as he did now, that he wouldn’t bother coming here if it weren’t for Dr. Drakolisk’s immense skill and brilliant bedside manner. Of course, the complimentary treatment he received as a ministry employee also helped.

At the present, Mulligan gave a silent thanks as his unpleasant deliberations were interrupted by the arrival of the doctor.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, James. Just had some ministry business to attend to, you know how it is.” The man seemed positively flustered. His wild white bushy hair looked more disheveled than usual and his complexion, though normally ruddy, was almost completely flushed. James had never asked how old Drakolisk was, but at a guess he would say around 50. Today, for some reason, he looked 10 years older.

“Heh”, James laughed, “had you kept me waiting in this dungeon you call an office any longer, I’d have thought you didn’t like me.”

The doctor chuckled heartily, “Now James, it’s not like I enjoy it down here anymore than you.”

“Somehow I doubt that”, said James with a sly grin.

“You may be right, my boy. You’re friends with someone for 5 years and suddenly they know you.

Now what can I do for you today. No, wait, let me guess. The knee is acting up, am I correct?”

Of course he was correct as this was the reason James stopped by on a near-weekly basis.

“I’m afraid so”, said James. “Such bothersome technology. Honestly I’m surprised there are any Clockworks up and walking around today.”

“Now, now, James”, contested Drakolisk, “If it wasn’t for such ‘bothersome technology’ as you put it, it would be you who wouldn’t be walking today. Or perhaps there is another reason the knee troubles you so much?” Dr. Joshua conjectured correctly, but James was too proud to openly admit he saw the contraption as a reminder of the events which necessitated the need for a transplant to begin with.

James laughed off the doctor’s inferences, “I wasn’t aware you had your psychology degree, Joshua. Honestly, the damn thing has been catching and squealing like a rusty hinge.”

“All right. Why don’t you hop up on the table and we will have a look.”

A few moments later James was seated on the leather top examination bed with his pant leg rolled above the offending articulation. The metal joint sparkled in the light of the inspection lamp. Drakolisk hunched down until his face was inches from the knee. He flipped various maglenses in front of his spectacles and scrutinized the medley of metal for several awkwardly silent minutes.

“It’s a shame we were never able to replicate Clockwork optical tech. Perhaps I could have had my eyes replaced”, the doctor laughed. “Oh, hold on, I think I see the problem.”

He turned around to rummage in his black tool bag and returned with a small screwdriver.

“It looks like one of the collateral stability screws may have been torqued a bit too much”, he speculated while giving the screw in question a few small turns to the left. “You’ve been oiling it like I told you?”

“Of course”, lied James who did not feel up to another lecture at this moment.

“Ah, that should do it. Give it a try”, John said as he took a few steps back to give Mulligan room. James swung his leg out straight a few times with ease.

“Looks like you’ve cured me, Doc.”

“Always a pleasure, my boy. Is there anything else I can do for you?” The doctor asked as he put his instruments away. James paused as he rolled down his pant leg. He had been hoping for a while to pick Dr. Drakolisk’s brain, but was fearful he may appear ignorant. However, time was not on his side and he knew he may not get a better chance.

“Actually there is. I have a few questions about Clockworks that I was hoping you could help answer.”

Dr. Joshua dropped his bulk into the high backed leather chair behind his desk with a grunt and gestured to the one on the other side of the desk.

“You’ve come to the right place. What’s on your mind?”

James nervously cleared his throat. “I’m specifically curious about clockwork anatomy...”

“Hmm, I see. Would this have anything to do with the recent murders you’ve been investigating?”

James smiled. “Perhaps it is you who should be the detective, Josh.”

“Very droll. Fire away, my friend.”

James paused once again wondering where to begin. Though he had always felt Clockworks to be machines, human looking machines, but machines none the less, his latest interactions with Lucy had created some uncertainty in his mind. Uncertainty which he felt he must resolve.

“In your professional opinion, would you say the Clockwork is more human or machine?”

To this Drakolisk seemed amused, “What an odd question. Not one that I haven’t given thought to. Of course, empirically speaking, they are machines..”

At once James felt foolish that he ever doubted his own logic, but then the doctor continued, “However, they were created in a very analogous manner to humans. So much like us, yet so different you might say. It almost seems they blur the line between man and machine to such a degree that I would go so far as to assign them their own race: ‘Homo in machina’.”

“Man in the machine?” Now it was James turn to be amused. “Why Josh, I had no idea you were such a philosopher.”

“Heh, you jest, detective, but you asked my opinion and now you have it.”

James fretted he may have pushed the doctor’s good nature too far. “Indeed, my apologies, Joshua. Please, when you say ‘analogous’, could you elaborate?”

Much to his relief, Drakolisk gave a nod and smile. “Certainly, my boy. What I mean to say is that our automaton friends share similar structures in their physical make-up. Take for instance the human skeleton. It provides us with support and protection. The Clockwork framework is nearly identical but made of metal rather than bone. We have muscles that facilitate our locomotion, they have a complex system of pistons and gears. They have a thoracic rib cage, like us, to protect the more precious organs, but rather than a heart and lungs, they have a boiler and bellows if they’ve upgraded. Most curious the integumentary system. As it is with us, it provides the Clockworks with a cloak of protection. Unlike us, it is not made of skin as we know it. Oddly you couldn’t tell the difference by touch alone, but microscopic examination has told us otherwise. It’s just too bad we couldn’t duplicate that either. Perhaps, in time, science will reveal those mysteries as well.”

Though James was enjoying the lesson, he had a sneaking suspicion Joshua could go on like this for hours. He made an attempt to steer the conversation towards the answer he sought most.

“And what of their brain, Doc?”

“Ah yes, the elusive ‘thought box’, as it is known. It is theorized that it may be animated by the phenomenon of Electricity. Though we don’t fully understand the technology, it is believed to house the controls for the feelings, desires, and logic of the humanoid. The ‘soul’ if you will.”

“And if the thought box is destroyed, the Clockwork ceases to be?”

“Exactly! Unlike our brains, the thought box does not die if the body loses power. However, if the thought box is physically destroyed, then likewise so is the soul.” Drakolisk spread his hands in a gesture of finality.

“You said the thought box houses feelings and desires. It is my understanding that a mere machine cannot have such things.”

“And yet they do! Sadly we do not understand how. The whims of their Creator I suppose. It seems he wasn’t interested in simply creating a beast of burden. Perhaps he wanted his creations to be able to experience and enjoy the life they were given to the fullest. What intrigues me most is though they all seem capable of individual thought, they all share one common desire; that of ‘The Purpose’, as they call it.”

James couldn’t help but smile. “I’m familiar with the concept.”

Drakolisk once again discerned James’ thoughts and replied, “You are referring to Lucy, I take it? I must commend you for taking her on. No doubt you have received much vexation for such a decision.”

James gave a wave of dismissal. “Actually she does a tremendous job. And I can’t say I don’t appreciate the company.”

“And I thank you for bringing me a new patient. Strangely my private practice hasn’t exactly flourished in this environment”, Joshua said with a grin. “When you see her next, please let her know she is due for her six month tune up, will you?”