In Darkest London

Chapter 8 ~ {Discovery at Whitlock Manor}

Lord Whitlock and his eldest daughter Hattie, sat in silence except for the whirring sound coming from the automated servants as they busied themselves around the grand table. One clanked silverware cutlery, the other handled the fine china plates as they set things out for supper with great precision. They worked to a finely tuned rhythm; Lord Whitlock's china at the head of the table, Ms Hattie's to his left, and Miss Chastity's to his right. But as they got to Miss Chastity's place, they paused, simultaneously, at the unoccupied seat.

"Will Miss Chastity be joining you for supper, my Lord?" asked the silverware servant in its generic monotone-factory-setting voice. (Only the higher ranking house staff benefited from an updated microchip which enabled them to have more human-like qualities, like their own name, a specific gender and even their own persona.)

Stunned at the question, Lord Whitlock looked to his daughter, "Have you been with your sister this evening, Hattie?"

"I haven't, Father." She straightened, not seeming to move anything but her lips, she was more robot-like than the servants themselves.

"I wonder if she's fallen into an early slumber ... have Adelia wake her up." Lord Whitlock said, waving his hand in dismissal.

Both servants scuttled out of the dining hall, leaving behind a trickling cloud of steam as they disappeared.

"It's not like your sister to be late for supper." Lord Whitlock said, taking out his pocket watch from his waistcoat, studying the time and snapping it shut.

Hattie acknowledged her father's comment with only a nod. Her lips pursed thoughtfully, as though she was about to say something, when the clanking noise returned as the servants re-entered the dining hall. They whirred in, heads spinning, smoke coming from their ears, arms flying in the air, skidding towards the table. They crashed up against it, one after the other, like derailed train carriages. Hattie's eyes widened, her jaw dropped as she slid her chair backward and leapt up. Lord Whitlock brought a clenched fist down on the table, smashing his watch in the process. "Order!" he bellowed.

The servants straightened up, standing to attention and tried to speak in unison. Their usual monotone mechanically clear voices now rusty gibberish. Hattie made her way around the grand table towards them.

"Father, I think perhaps the servants have malfunctioned."

"Malfunctioned? Nonsense." Lord Whitlock examined his broken watch.

"They're not programmed to handle change. This is all Chastity's fault ... Where is - ?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Hattie. There's sure to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for her tardiness ..." Hattie rolled her eyes, Lord Whitlock didn't notice, he continued "... Adelia on the other hand, should have informed me of any change to your sister's schedule."

"I'll go find her, Father".

"We shall both go ..." Sighed Lord Whitlock as he placed down the shattered pocket-watch and rose from his chair.

Chastity's room was situated in the west wing of the house and Adelia, her automaton nanny-turned maid, spent ninety percent of her daily charge in that very room. If Adelia wasn't helping Chastity in and out of her dresses, fixing her hair, scrubbing her in the bath or taking care of all of her other personal needs - she could be found in the small through-room organising Chastity's daily schedule, taking messages and managing her diary.

Lord Whitlock had been one of the first to purchase this new kind of 'live in help' when his investment in the railways paid off and the world began to move with the times. Chasity's mother was sceptical at first, but Adelia's human-like installed mannerisms and life-like personality almost made up for her mechanically simple look. She followed instructions down to the letter, never making an error, but had a soft, personable quality giving off the believable impression she was a real person with a mind of her own. She was programmed to be kind, likeable, loving, and she was all of those things.