Ellipse

Chapter one

There were very few quiet places in Cors.
Just as most cities, Cors was full of  noise and clamor. People running hither and thither, things bustling an bristling, the whirr of the Message machine high above the rooftops, steam vehicles whistling and chugging down the streets. Merchants in markets yelling out, advertising their treats and trinkets. People strolling, running, lugging, talking to each other in one dialect or another. And the people, what  a variety! Top Hats, turbans, boots and burlap, silk, slippers, corsets and cashmere, all of which belonged to individual people. People, who were pushing through, yelling and yelping, diving in opposite directions from one another to avoid colliding; some people colliding. Young children being held on to tightly by their parents, so that they would not run off and get lost in the crowd. Old men walking slowly leaning on their canes, young men walking briskly by. Poor begging for money, rich buying with it, shopkeepers counting it, and the pickpockets swiping it. And this is where the noise came from, filling the place, causing the city of Cors to ring with life and sound, buzzing as it was, like a bell.
Now even though there were few quiet places in Cors, they were still there. An if you were to turn from the bustling streets, and made your way east, going down Redflight street and turned towards the big red bank. You might see a little sign directing you to Ink street, but entering in you may find it less of a street, and more of an alleyway. Hardly big enough for a steam cycle to drive through, with only one lamp, that often was forgotten by the lamplighters.
Ink street was quiet, the only sound that could be heard where the ones off in the distance from the rest of the city. There were no houses on Ink street, no markets or tea shops. Only a broken down old apartment building, boarded up and falling apart, the back door to the bank, and a clock shop huddled in at the end of the street. Really the only sound that came from Ink street, was the faint sound of ticking. The clock shop. The clock shop was an old building, and besides it's hidden place in the city, it stood out among the other buildings. For most of the buildings of the city Cors where very colorful, red, orange, blue, no matter what size or structure, they were all vibrant and alive. The city stood out in that way, and even the cobbled streets blazed of a red sandstone. The spires where blue, and the rooftops where red, that's just how Cors was. But the clock shop building was grey and black, colorless to most eyes, with bricks of the color grey, and black mold growing on its side. It's door was painted grey, almost to match the rest of the old building. The only bright color that came from the building, was the silver green color of the lichen that grew on the cracked bricks. It sat wedged between the big bank, and the broken down apartment building, squished as it were.
The ticking sound, of course, was muffled by the door and the windows that all had the words, 'Haywood clocks and repairs' painted on them.
A young man entered the street, he was dark, with a thin mustache above his even thinner lips. He was not very tall, but he stood up, stretching himself to look taller. His clothes were worn out and shabby, from his hat, down to his boots. Fel
He stepped up to the door and pushed it open, causing the sound of ticking clocks to expand in volume.
"I hate clocks," he mumbled quietly to himself, as he looked around. The clock shop seemed to be empty, nothing there but the continual ticking. Yet the Felix Leech did not seemed to be moved by this at all, he slowly swaggered up to the counter where he found a little golden pocket watch. He picked it up and observed it, wondering if it really would be missed if it disappeared in his pocket. He decided that it would, and set it back on the counter. He checked the time, "I really do hate clocks," he said again, just to affirm that statement to himself.
"Why would you hate something so brilliant?"
Felix swung around to find who said that.
"Aha, there you are Monroe." said Felix moving his hands away from the golden pocket watch and putting them in his pockets. 
Monroe had come in from the next room, holding a few pieces of paper in one hand, and a little box in the other. He walked around Felix and placed the box carefully on the counter, and then inspected the paper.
"I didn't know you hated clocks," he said, "I guess that explains why you never buy one."
"Well," huffed Felix, "I don't buy them because I don't have the money. But even if I did have the money, I still wouldn't buy them. I hate clocks because I hate time, and I don't like to be reminded of it every hour."
"Suit yourself," said Monroe opening the box, revealing a great number of gears, he began to dig through it. He chose a small little cog, and held it between his finger and his thumb while he opened the pocket watch with his other hand.  Monroe was not of the sort that should be friends with the likes of Felix. Monroe was the type to love work and spend his time and money on productive things, liking truth and honesty. Prior to Felix, who hated work, and spent his money on things like alcohol. And because of this, he hardly had any money at all.
"Look at this," Monroe said, Felix looked down at the stop watch, it had been taken apart. Felix could see the functions inside, the cogs and wheels that made it up, the pieces where extremely small.
"This little cog," said Monroe holding it up so Felix could see, "is going to replace the escape gear, see the odd looking teeth it has." He had an exited gleam in his eye that always seemed to appear when he was working on something. Felix watched bored as Monroe replaced the broken gear with the new one, using a thin pair of tweezers. Then he began to build it back, the gears being so small and thin, that it took a very steady hand. But the only thing that was of any interest to Felix was the gold on the outside.
"See Felix," said Monroe winding up the watch, "there is a lot more to clocks then time. It's the beauty that fits inside this little things that makes them so brilliant."
"I don't find them beautiful, nor brilliant," said Felix plainly. Just then the a door from the back of the shop opened, and a burly man came out from his office. He had a large mustache that sat on his face from underneath his large nose, and a piercing glare of his eyes from under a dark brow. He walked out quickly into the shop, seeming to not even notice the presence of Monroe and Felix. He pulled out a device from his pocket, it looked like a compass, but covered in buttons, and little switches. He was staring at it intently as he walked by them, "evening Mildred," said Felix, turning around as Mildred walked through the room to the front door. "I said evening Mildred," Felix said yet again, Mildred turned towards the Coat-rack, he pulled his hat from it, stuck it on his head and left, without saying a word.
"Odd bloke Mildred is," Felix mumbled as he watched from the window as Mildred disappeared around the corner. Monroe put the pocket watch away.
"yes," he said, "sort of does his own thing, you know, I hardly see him out of his office."
"Wonder what he was doing?" said Felix, his eyes still on the corner in which Mildred disappeared down.
"Who?" replied Monroe inspecting a grandfather clock in the corner.
"Your boss, Mildred!"
"Oh, right. I should think he's headed towards the bank."
There was a fixed silence, and the chorus of ticking clocks took hold of their ears. Felix was still staring out the window, a content look on his face.
"So," said Monroe finally, "what is it?"
"What's what?" said Felix,
"What do you want?" Monroe pulled out a cloth from the shelf and polished the grandfather clock.
"I don't know, I was thinking of going out to target practice."
"Oh really?"
"Yes,"
"And you were planning on target practicing in here?"
Felix shrugged.
"Honestly Felix I don't think that's why you're here."
"I was just stopping by in my way to the pub first, and was wondering if you-"
"I'm not supporting your bad habits if THAT was what you wanted me to do."
Felix shrugged again, and looked around the room at the dusty clocks.
Suddenly Mildred came back in, he still had the compass looking thing in his hand, but was no longer looking at it. He closed it and looked about the shop, smoothing his mustache down. "What are you doing here Felix?" he asked unenthusiastically in a deep voice, as he walked up to the counter and began rummaging through one of the drawers. Felix did not answer, but instead watched Mildred intently. Mildred looked up and met Felix's stare, they both glared at each other with cynical eyes. Mildred's gaze much more piercing. Monroe took notice of this sudden tension, and wondered to himself what it was about. He felt that he should perhaps leave them, and let them figure out, whatever it was between them. But he changed his mind, and instead said, "capital weather we've been having, haven't we? For the middle of March too, I hope it stays this way till the end of spring." It seemed that Felix and Mildred had not heard him, for the staring continued for a good few seconds. The clocks ticking continuously, seeming to add a strange, and uncomfortable atmosphere to the pause. Finally Mildred said, "are you going to buy anything Felix?" his eyes still locked on Felix, "no," replied Felix, raising his eyebrows and turning up his nose,
"Then you really have no business being here now do you,"
"I guess I don't" each one of them were speaking in low tones, as if they clearly knew something that Monroe didn't. Felix turned, and walked to the door stiffly, "see you some other time then, Monroe," he said as he walked out and slowly strode away.
"What was that?" asked Monroe looking at Mildred questioningly, but he got no reply. Mildred just dug through the drawer again twisting his mustache thoughtfully, "do you know where you put that golden stopwatch?" he said opening the top drawer and looking through it. "Which one?"
"The one that Mr. Hatmen sent to be fixed."
"Oh yes, it's on the shelf."
Mildred plucked the stopwatch off and opened it.
"Well done," he said, handing it to Monroe. "This needs to go in the middle drawer,"
"Okay," said Monroe not even asking why. It seemed to Mildred that nothing was ever in it's right place, and he couldn't for the life of him trust Monroe to ever put things in the places where they were supposed to go. Though the man was good at what he did, he was the most unorganized and messy person Mildred knew.  "Mr. Hatmen said that he'd come next week to pick up his watch," said Mildred, leaning against the counter and shoving his hand in his pocket. He shot a glance at the clock in the far corner, it was a lovely wall clock, with carved wood above its face. It was exactly five thirty, time to close and Monroe to leave, but Mildred would have to stay a bit longer. A lot longer.
"Monroe, before you leave I want you to look at this." he said pulling a few pieces of paper from his pocket, "I know how you have helped me with this for a while, and I want to ask you yet again if you could do this." Monroe looked down at the parchment, it was a blueprint of some kind of mechanical machine. Very complicated, yet Monroe understood it. "You want me to build this for you?" he asked taking the papers from Mildred and inspecting them with great enthusiasm, "this one seems much more complex than the last one, I would need to purchase more materials for it of course, but nothing rare. Yes I could do this," he said, the gleam in his eye showing up as he followed the lines and patterns on the papers. "But," he said, "you still haven't told me what it is I'm helping you build."
"You best not know for the time being," said Mildred, "for now I just don't want you to tell anyone about this,"
"Please remind me again why?" Monroe asked still transfixed to the papers in his hands.
"Someone might steal my idea," he said stiffly, "you know this day and time, with so many inventors and such." But Monroe was no longer listening, he was submerged in the pages of the blueprint. "This is quite extraordinary, how did you come up with these functions?" he said running his hand along the drawing. Mildred even more taut stood there quiet, letting Monroe observe the drawing, "well," he said, "I'll pay you for this after it's done, I figure that way you'll get it done quicker. I need you to be done with it within the next few days. How much would you say I should give you, thirty flats? Yes, I'll give you thirty flats."
Monroe looked up from the papers suddenly, "thirty?" he said his eyes wide, "that's a lot! Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Mildred, "but it has to be built exactly the way the plans say. Can't be done carelessly, every bolt tight, not a thing out of place."
"Yes, of course sir, thank you very much," Monroe shook Mildred's hand delighted, put his coat and hat on, he walked over to the door to go. "Oh and Monroe,"
"Yes," replied Monroe.
"You don't have to come in tomorrow, I need that to be built as soon as possible, so it would help me much better if you take the day off work."
"Right," replied Monroe, Mildred nodded and turned to go into this office. Monroe left to go home, with the plans folded safely in his coat pocket