Clarkesworld Magazine Issue 111 by Neil Clarke

Author:Neil Clarke
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: chinese, science fiction, fantasy magazine, short story, science fiction magazine, fantasy, magazine, novelette, short stories, clarkesworld
Publisher: Wyrm Publishing
Published: 2015-12-01T05:00:00+00:00

About the Author

Cassandra Khaw is the business developer for Singaporean video games publisher Ysbryd Games. She also writes for Ars Technica UK whenever possible. When not doing either of those things, she practices muay thai, tries to find time to dance, and reads voraciously. She also writes a variety of fiction, and has a novella entitled RUPERT WONG, CANNIBAL CHEF out with Abaddon Books.

Technarion

Sean McMullen

As monsters go, I am not at all typical. I have killed hundreds, but my motives were good. There is a lot more killing to be done, probably more than even I can manage. Then again, I might become an even greater monster and give up. Humans probably deserve what is to come, and I no longer care. After all, I am not a typical human, either.

In the spring of 1875 I was a bright and innocent young man with good prospects. Although steam was the foundation of every branch of industry, I had chosen to study electricity when I had entered the mechanics institute. By chance I had been given a good education, and this had kept me out of the mills and the mines. I never suspected that it would also make me immortal.

My introduction to James Kellard was dramatic in the extreme. I worked for Telegraphic Mechanisms, a company which supplied equipment to the telegraph industry. While I was well known and widely respected as an outstanding tradesman, it was not the sort of respect that got one admitted to the Royal Society.

I had just arrived at my workbench one morning when Merric, my overseer, entered with a man of perhaps fifty. He was dressed in one of the newly fashionable lounge suits, and the top hat that he wore declared him to be a man of quality. He had a military bearing, and there was an old scar across his left cheek.

“Lewis, I want you to meet Mr. Kellard,” Merric babbled nervously, not really sure of the protocols used in genteel society. “Mr. Kellard, this is Lewis Blackburn.”

I had stood up by now. Kellard offered me his hand, but without removing his glove. He was being familiar, but not too familiar. In 1875, this was the way things were done.

“Mr. Kellard wishes to discuss some problems of electro-mechanics,” Merric continued.

“I can’t do that, begging your pardon, sir,” I said, addressing Kellard. “The terms of my employment—”

“No longer matter,” said Kellard. “I have just bought Telegraphic Mechanisms. You may leave us, Mr. Merric.”

As introductions go, it certainly secured my attention. Telegraphic Mechanisms was not a small company, and financially it was on good times. Kellard said no more until Merric was out of earshot.

“Do you know of me?” he asked, bending over to examine a switch on my workbench.

“No sir,” I replied, as deferential as if I were standing before the queen.

“I doubled my fortune by being first to spot trends in the marketplace. Just now I happen to know that electrical switches will gain me great advantage, so I am buying companies that build them.

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