The Inventor's Son

Chapter 14: In Which There is a Hint of Liam's True Nature

THAT NIGHT, ETHAN COULD NOT SLEEP, no matter how much he tried. He finally gave up and got out of bed. He tiptoed around the flat, trying not to disturb anyone or anything. His hands were a bit stiff and sore from blocking Kearney's metal fist on the train, and writing a long love letter didn't help it feel any better, unfortunately. He'd poured out his heart in that missive, two pages long. Now, he didn't dare actually send it as it was. Ethan had a feeling that if he told his dear Beth (he could not bring himself to think of her as Elizabeth) how very much in love with her he'd already fallen, she'd get rather alarmed and never speak to him again.

Another reason he could not sleep was on account of the fact that every time he tried to close his eyes, he only could see Kearney's misshapen, ugly face. He could hear that wretch Mr. Pollman as well, telling Kearney to grab him and kill his grandmother and Liam and Cora.

And lastly, Ethan was dwelling on the departed Jean-Baptiste Arsenault. More importantly, he was dwelling on the note in Jean-Baptiste's death grip. Un petit oiseau m'a dit de vior toute cette ville. That was what the sentence had been translated into French. Normally, it would have meant, "A little bird told me to see this entire city." But the actual sentence in his father's handwriting was "A little bird told me to get an eyeful of this entire city!"

Antsy from his ruminations, Ethan opened up the trunk in which Sam's parts were all laid. Ethan spent the next half hour reassembling Sam. "Sam, I'm sorry I had to keep you in this dark case so long. Please forgive me." Ethan gently placed Sam's head on the neck and connected several thin metallic threads to a switch under where Sam's chin would be. Next, he connected the arms and legs in the same manner, using the same sort of thin threads.

Ethan knew that people would most likely think it strange that he care so much about an android, who was supposed to be unfeeling and unloving, but Sam had always seemed as though he were so much more than that. To Ethan, Sam was like the sibling he'd never had. He swore to himself he wasn't going to lock Sam away in a case again anytime soon if he could help it.

Ethan wound up Sam so he would be operational for five more days. He tied the key to a string and looped it around his neck for safe keeping. "Sam, we made it to Paris..." Sam grasped Ethan's arm and leaned in. "Of course, we're being chased by some rather mad fellows in my uncle's employ." Ethan reached into the trunk where he'd put all of his father's old journals. "Maybe I can find out more about what my father and Jean-Baptiste had worked on together..." he mused aloud, and lit a fire in the parlor so he could read the red journal further. He also tossed the original letter he'd drafted to Beth into the fire, knowing he will enjoy writing another one.

Even when Marcus was in Cambridge, his handwriting had a hasty flourish to it that made it so distinctive to Ethan. Of course, some of the topics of discussion in Professor Colbourne's classes were quite beyond Ethan's young intellect, but he understood enough to get the gist of it. Ethan thought wistfully of what it must have been like in that class. He thought of his father, among a group of bright young students, eagerly anticipating Professor Colbourne's demonstrations of the powers of the brain.

It made Ethan think of Marlowe's words, that Colbourne had been a mighty titan once and had fallen far. Recalling those words made him sad. He thought of how horrified his father must have felt upon hearing of Colbourne's descent into madness.

At long last, Ethan slipped into an exhausted slumber about two hours before dawn. Sam settled next to his young master and patiently guarded him, much like a dog would sleep at his master's feet.

In the morning, Cora and Liam must have both risen at a similar time, since they were both peering over Ethan when he awakened. Sam had been leaning on Ethan's shoulder the entire time he'd been asleep. "Ugh," Ethan groaned, looking at the sprawl of his father's papers and journals he'd unleashed over the course of the night. "Anything interesting here?" Ethan finally asked in annoyance.