Steam Powered Giraffe

Chapter Thirty-two.
(A moment of delight, Urgent summons, Becile strikes again, and Desperate measures)

Peter had never known such delight, and therefore wanted very little else. Alas, the demands of his body made it loudly known that his stomach had dearly missed its lunch. Iris must have been perishing, too, for her own belly answered his hungry snarl with its own.

The plentiful lunch, since gone cold, provided them both ample sustenance. He derived some great glee from feeding dear Iris some of her own cooking. A decently diplomatic half of her delectable dishes. Though she drank water instead of his cooled coffee. They picnicked naked, seeing no need for clothing, and no want for shame. He could see dear Iris taking as much delight in his form as he did in hers.

He could have easily spent the rest of his life in this room with her. And he made a valiant effort at trying to do so. Showed her everything he knew, discovered everything that gave her joy. Delighted in her exhibition of bliss. Sank himself into the sheer delight of her skin.

And finally finished in a lengthy embrace. Surrounded by the perfume of her body. Feeling her in his arms. Close to him.

He never had a better rest than he had with her by his side.

He could have stayed forever. He wanted nothing more than forever with dear Iris. Domestic bliss. Scientific bliss. And -yes- more than a deserving helping of conjugal bliss. She deserved it all. He watched her slumbering in the half-light of sunset, filtering through the curtains. Peter could spend every waking moment absorbed in her sweet face.

She blinked into waking as he brushed some errant wisps of her hair from her cheek. A little smile dawned on her lips.

Peter was just about to invite her to stay forever when there was a knock at his door.

"Colonel Walter," said Tom through the door. "You have a visitor who says he needs to see you urgently. He says it's about Mister Babclock."

Dear Iris kissed his nose. "Go," she whispered. "I'm fine. Better than fine."

She helped him find his clothes. He helped her with her garments... at least the ones that didn't perplex him. Women's clothing, he thought, was unnecessarily complicated. She giggled at his efforts under her breath.

Her laugh was so infectious that he was still smiling when he opened the door. Iris hid behind it. Looking like she was trying to avoid some dire villain instead of the boy.

"Did this visitor give a name?" he said.

Tom only shook his head. He looked like he was terrified. "Just said it was urgent, sir. And you have to come at once."

Peter stole a look at Iris, who made tiny shoo-ing motions at him. Of course. If the Admiral his father found out about their mutual moment of passion, he would be intolerable. And he would be thrice as intolerable to dear Iris than he would be to Peter. She never deserved that kind of malice.

Therefore, he said, "Well lead on, then." And followed Tom away from his rooms. Away from her. Away from time with his metal children, just as they were ready to see him.

On towards a stranger with vital business.

They were waiting in the larger library, and Peter would never be able to recall their face, gender, or the sound of their voice. Only that they wore a brown coat. But he remembered the message.

Becile was conquering the rock candy mines in Egypt. Hell bent on conquering the world and resurrecting the lost Delilah with his despicable Green Matter. Which would be a gross violation of decency in general and her person in particular. Delilah had not loved him. It might have been easier if she had. Thaddeus Becile might have been satisfied to have won her love and lost her.

He never did cope well with being denied anything he wanted. Setting ruin to Egypt in order to steal a woman, who never cared for him, back from the grave seemed to be exactly his style.

But Becile had to be stopped. And Peter was the only one with anything that could begin to stop him.

He had the giant mechanical giraffe. He had his boys. Just babies... But resilient babies who could be programmed, altered to suit a need. He had access to industrial equipment. He certainly had enough money to mass manufacture some backup automatons...

It was a desperate madness. A very desperate madness. Almost as desperate as wanting to steal Doctor Moreau back from death.

Desperate measures for a dire situation.

He ran upstairs to plan.

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Chapter Thirty-one.
(Frustrations arise, Bold new talent, Affection returned, and Requited passions)

The following days were full of near misses. Embraces almost taken. Kisses almost given. Confessions almost said. And always, always some interruption or another.

Like the unexpected news that the Admiral had finally been cleared to hobble about on crutches. Or poor Penelope having a nervous episode in one of the stairwells. Or Mrs Cambridge falling down from a fever. Or another one of the highly predatory ladies confidently coming

Chapter Thirty.
(Love blooms under a bushel, Visions both pleasant and dire, A quick study, and The automaton school)

Peter had to wonder if hot flushes were an effect of the blue matter or if they were simply an effect of Miss Iris. She had a unique knack of making him unsure of his footing, yet completely at ease with such a situation.

And he did admire brilliant women. That had not changed. Was he entranced with her like he had been

Chapter Twenty-nine.
(A need for calm, A walk in the garden, Lights and bushels, and A kiss returned)

He still paced, and oscillated, but at least he was less frenetic about it. Both his alliterative babbling and the word 'dummins' had ceased escaping his lips.

"Oh, Colonel," she sighed. "It's all right, now. She's gone. You're safe."

"That... That was... That was..." He fumbled. He finally allowed himself to rest. Slumping in his chair. "That was completely unhygienic." A shuddering breath. "She

Chapter Twenty-eight.
(A solid campaign, A need for attention, A fix for a leak, and A very bad encounter)

Monday.

Colonel Walter was studying a fresh set of books in the scientific library. Taking fascinated notes. Iris set a table in his bedroom and all but dragged him there. Gentle touches to his bicep, chest, and shoulders were only possible once he was seated. Once she had him seated at some delicious food, she added gentle brushes of her hands against his

Chapter Twenty-seven.
(The absence of a gentleman, A strange elation,The end of her lessons, and A permanent invitation to tea)

Sunday. Her day off. Iris dressed in her street wear and dressed her hair demurely enough for the streets of San Diego. It would have gone well, had she not run into the Colonel on her way out.

The babies instantly crowded around her, fascinated by how she'd changed. Rabbit lorded it over Three And Four, who had never seen Iris

Chapter Twenty-six
(Surprising domesticity, Lost genius, True love’s kissykiss, and A scientific fairytale)

Iris scampered back to the kitchen with the rest of the prime steaks. If Colonel Walter or the Admiral noticed, nothing was said. Mrs Cambridge seemed used to it, and laid a place at the table as if it was no trouble a all.

Many maids drew straws to serve the Admiral his courses, whilst Colonel Walter received his piping hot and fresh from the stove.

He seemed

Chapter Twenty-five.
(The funeral, Sudden learning, Absent friends, and Another disastrous dinner)

Yesterday afternoon had been a medicine to his soul. Just what he'd needed to face today. He shaved and groomed himself with every care. To bid a lovely stranger farewell.

Somber, black clothes. No decorations. No shining jewels. Just the raven-black ribbon on his top hat. The Admiral his father said that mourning dress made Peter look like a lamppost in search of a corner. That could not be helped.

Chapter Twenty-four.
(The happy mask of an angry man, A need for more than legacy, Taking a stand, and Going to feed the ducks)

Iris was glad she had finished the current document that the Colonel had dictated. The Admiral's booming greeting nearly scared her out of her skin.

Especially since it was a genial, "There you are, my dear boy," he cheered as if Colonel Walter was a favoured rich relative. "So nice to see this place coming to order. And

Chapter Twenty-three.
(Enforced health initiatives, The need of invention, An enlisted automaton, and Some very despicable lies)

Admiral Reginaldfield Chesterpot Walter was absolutely certain that Mrs Clambridge was using his infirmity against him. She was making him take in sunshine. And forcing him to have regular bedtimes. And sitting him to meals that his wife used to make him eat. He also knew for a fact that she had confiscated every ounce of snuff in the house because all of his hiding

Chapter Twenty-two.
(The need for fixing, What must be done, Utter chaos upstairs, and How well did you know her?)

Iris could see the exact moment when her words killed him. The joy bled out of him, starting with the twinkle in his eye. Then the light in his presence. Then the straightness in his stance.

"No," he whispered. "No, it's not fair. No. No. No... I worked so hard..." His hands started to shake. No. Not shake. Wriggle. Like he was

Chapter Twenty-one.
(The freight train of recollection, How much was a dream? The automaton giraffe, and The worst of invitations)

For the first time since he'd began his desperate project, Peter was supremely comfortable. Rested. At ease. At peace. He was warm and relaxed and his only discomfort the growing pressure in his bladder. And a slight niggle of hunger.

Peter rolled over and opened his eyes to the familiar wallpaper of his bedroom. He didn't remember coming here. He certainly didn't

Chapter Twenty.
(Human levitation, Those things are babies, Where’s Pappy? and The worst news of all)

Iris later swore that she levitated off her camp bed and landed on her feet. Still snorting.

Miss Pamela was screaming at the babies, who did what babies do best with loud noises. Which was make a louder noise back.

Iris gathered her scattered wits and hollered, "Pamela, SHUSH!" Then it was just a matter of helping each machine calm down (cool water for their

Chapter Nineteen.
(Four metal people, Easily impressed, For want of a kiss, and The bad loud noise)

"See?" said Rabbit, they were using their best whisper. "Said I found Ma."

The Spine held one finger over his mouth. His version of tippy-toes was a nervous shuffle. Behind him were the new two. Units Three and Four. Their glowing eyes wide and curious.

"Whazzat?" said Unit Three.

Rabbit gestured in a showman-like way at Ma as she slept on the tiny, low shelf.