The Argonaut Society

Episode Three: Unaccustomed Territory

Amelia arrived at Colonel Pell's country estate grateful for the distraction from Alexander's proposal. Struck as inarticulate as her (clearly mad) suitor, she escaped with a promise to communicate her decision after the gala article ran.

A two-seat Ticker clockwork car zoomed around the circle to the front steps of the Colonel's home. Gavin slid out of the Ticker and took the stairs two at a time, not seeing Amelia until he nearly ran her over.

"Ah, Miss Stodge! Delighted that you could make it!" Gavin said with uncharacteristic geniality. He adjusted his driving goggles on his forehead with his customary swagger. "McGoffery gave you the clunker model, I see. The new ones are more streamlined and the roll adjusts automatically."

Gavin's breath explained his happy demeanor.

Amelia admitted inwardly that the cuff was, indeed, clunky. But if she hadn't worn it she would have felt, if not underdressed, then certainly under-accessorized. Almost everyone she saw, women as well as men, sported some kind of gadget. As she and Gavin joined the crowd in the expansive foyer, Amelia noticed that the gentleman in front of them appeared to have encased his entire right shoulder and arm with a gleaming brass and leather contraption. With every movement of his arm or fingers, various pressure releases hissed and tiny pistons clicked.

"General Beauregard Pillington," Gavin whispered to Amelia, leaning close so he wouldn't be overheard. Amelia held her breath to fend against the rolls of whiskey vapor billowing from his mouth. "His arm was paralyzed by a bullet in the wars. Leading from the front, right? The Regent wanted to award him a medal, but the general refused. 'What good is a medal if I can't shake a man's hand?' he said. Colonel Pell arranged for an Argonaut sponsor company to design and fabricate this apparatus for him. He has been a solid contributor to the Society ever since."Not wanting to admit her ignorance – she had no idea who the Argonauts were – Amelia appeared duly impressed. General Pillington reached out to take a glass from a passing tray and the apparatus clicked and hissed as his fingers gripped the fragile glass.

"Of course, he can't wear it all the time," Gavin continued sotto voce. "It's blasted heavy."

I can sympathize, Amelia thought, her shoulder already beginning to ache from the weight of the cuff on her arm.

Colonel Pell and Captain Merriday greeted Gavin and Amelia as they approached.

"Gavin!" Colonel Pell said, "How good of you to join us. Will you be writing the article? I couldn't imagine a better man to do so."

"If I were, I couldn't enjoy the breadth this evening's festivities," Gavin answered with a wink. 

"The editor has chosen the lovely Miss Stodge for the writeup. You might have read some of her articles in the social activities page."

The Colonel offered a warm welcome and introduced her to the man of honor.

Captain Merriday, the beneficiary of the evening's festivities, appeared a tad older than Amelia anticipated, with shots of grey in dark hair and lines about cheerful hazel eyes in a tanned and rugged face. Precisely the countenance one expected in an expeditionarian. He welcomed her and expressed his desire for an interview if circumstances allowed.

"Remember McGoffery's rule," Gavin said as they entered the ballroom, "as long as you wear the cuff, behave as one representing the Metropol. No wine and dancing for you tonight, I'm afraid," he chuckled.

Sighing, Amelia looked about. Couples swirled about the floor to a vivacious waltz, while other guests gathered in clusters to observe and converse, like any social gathering of sufficient attendance. That much at least remained familiar, she thought.