Clockwork Constellations
By Paul Michael Peters
This is a free chapter preview of my current writing. Follow along here as I write and shape this next new novel of fiction and fantasy while it takes shape. Yes, there will be errors abound while it grows. I will leave a place to comment if you would like to share your thoughts and ideas.
CHAPTER ONE
TOCK.
TOCK.
TOCK.
In the hushed expanse of the cosmos, where celestial bodies waltzed to the metronome of time, the Clockwork Constellation stood as a testament to unwavering order. Its heart, the planet Gearturn, pulsed with the rhythmic gears and cogs of a conductor, a symphony that had orchestrated the universe's destiny for eons.
Millicent Gearwright, Gearturn's most brilliant clockmaker, hunched over her workbench, her deft fingers coaxing life into the intricate mechanisms of her grandfather's cherished watch. In the 525,602 minutes that had elapsed since his departure, it had remained in this exact state. Even she couldn’t get it to work again. Millicent's passion for timepieces had been a constant in her life, a love passed down from her grandfather, whose legacy she endeavored to uphold. His watch, a singular masterpiece of intricate gears and delicate craftsmanship, held a special place in her heart, a reminder of the bond they shared.
As she worked, a flicker of unease darted across her pale, freckled face. TICK-TOCK, TICK-TOCK. The timepiece came back to life. That was different. The watch's heartbeat, once a steady companion, now faltered, skipping beats like a frightened rabbit. A shimmying on the floor started. Quickly, it became a violent quake. Rare and delicate instruments rattled. Well-oiled metal parts chattered in cases and from hooks on the walls of her shop. It lasted precisely forty-two seconds and ceased as abruptly as it had commenced.
An ancient darkness awakened in the depths of space, its presence concealed from Millicent, its tendrils creeping towards Gearturn's celestial shores. The very fabric of time trembled as the shadow's hunger grew, threatening to consume the delicate balance that held the universe together.
As the first signs of chaos manifested in the skies above Gearturn, Millicent Gearwright stood on her balcony watching. She was on the precipice of an adventure that would test the very limits of her courage and ingenuity. Little did she know, the fate of the Clockwork Constellation, and the universe itself, was soon to be thrust upon her.
Stepping outside her workshop for the first time in 4,544 minutes, she could see the strange happenings all around. The sky above was a kaleidoscope of color, shifting across the spectrum every six seconds. Neighborly Mr. Sprocket was exiting his front door, walking his dog Coggie, and walking back into the house all at the same time, without going anywhere. Blooms on the prize-winning plants of Celeste Meridian continued to open and close every two seconds without a petal falling to the ground. Millicent picked up her pace, making her way to the office of the Premier located at the center of Celestial City.
A mob had gathered at the central office, their voices rising in a cacophony of confusion and fear. Premier Jasper Horologe stood at the top of the steps, his hand raised in an attempt to calm the crowd. "Amara Epoch can't pet her cat; some type of spell has been cast over it!"
"How peculiar. What an odd thing to say," Millicent whispered.
"Our top scientists are on it," Horologe said, hands nearly flapping at the statement. "Hurry, hurry. Be on your way. Find the answer."
As Millicent made her way through the throng of people, she accidentally bumped into someone. "Oh, I am terribly sorry," she apologized, before recognizing the person. "Ivy Equinox? Is that you?"
The girl turned to face Millicent, her eyes wide with panic. "Yes, it's me! But Millicent, something dreadful is happening. I'm getting younger by the minute!"
Millicent's brow furrowed with concern as she watched Ivy Equinox burst into tears. "I don't want to be a teenager again," Ivy sobbed. "I was so content in my retirement."
Premier Horologe's voice rose above the commotion once more. "My fellow citizens, I implore you to remain calm. Panicking will not solve anything. Our brilliant minds are working tirelessly to unravel this mystery."
Millicent, lost in thought, muttered to herself, "The flickering lights, the temporal distortions... Something must be fundamentally broken. A malfunction, perhaps?"
"The sky has gone crazy. Mrs. Meridian claims her husband has turned into a ghost," Premier Horologe said, looking straight at Millicent. "A mermaid has taken over Mr. Mainspring's shower, and she's not the nice kind who sings."
Millicent Gearwright hated crowds. She liked people. She liked individuals. She was never good with groups, especially speaking to them. She felt out of place, unsure of what to say, or how others might perceive her intentions. Her heart raced like the hand of a stopwatch, her palms slick with sweat. She knew what must be done. When she thought of it, a sense of butterflies congregated in her stomach. They all wanted to escape through her mouth. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. Millicent opened her mouth, and a squeak popped out.
Ivy Equinox, in a pitch much higher than normal, poked her side as she got shorter, "Please, Millicent, if there's anything you can do."
Millicent cleared her throat and addressed the crowd, "Good people of Celestial City, I may not have all the answers yet, but I promise you this: I will not rest until I find the cause of these disturbances and set things right." As she turned, the call of her name caught her attention. "Millicent Gearwright has arrived, Gearturn's most brilliant clockmaker, is here," Premier Horologe said. "Maybe you have an answer?" Horologe pointed. "It seems the whole world has turned on its head."
Her mind turned over the information at hand. The data from changes in the behaviors of people, pets, plants, land, and sky all pointed to her hypothesis: time was malfunctioning. She would need to start her investigation to find the cause and remedy this for things to return to normal again.
Passing the tabernacle brick tower, below the belfry where they held her grandfather's memorial, the rules of time, clearly and permanently chipped into stone, read:
Time is fleeting.
Time is subjective.
Time can heal.
Time can be a source of regret.
Time is a force of change.
Time is cyclical.
Time is precious.
What was happening now, the malfunction, showed that time was not following these seven tenets. She would need to return it to normal. But she couldn't do it alone.
CHAPTER TWO
"What's the matter?" Orin asked, his voice a drowsy song,
"Why do you wake me, Millicent Gearwright, before the dawn has shone?
Be gone from here, and let me sleep until the morning light,
Return to me when day has broken, and the sun is bright."
"Orin, my dear friend," she said, pulling open the drapes. "It's midday, and you are still in bed. Something incredible has happened, and I need your help to investigate the source and cause."
"Oh, let me snooze; what could be so urgent, my dear?
Don't pester me more, you quirky little gear-head engineer!
Go tinker with your timepieces, let me catch some Z's,
I need my beauty sleep, so off you go now, if you please!"
"Sleep? The whole planet Gearturn is coming unwound, and you want to sleep?"
"My finest verses flow when I'm in slumber's gentle care,"
He burrowed deeper under pillows, like a playful bear.
"Sleep, oh sleep, the balm for every woe and doubt,
In dreamland's embrace, all troubles are worked out!"
Millicent tugged and strained at the pillows until she freed them from his clutches. With the changing colors of the sky radiating in his face, Orin flipped over to his belly, burying his face in the stuffed mattress.
"A million men or more, you say? To rouse me from my bed?
And embark upon adventures, while cozy dreams still fill my head?
Nay, I'll stay right here, all snug and warm; at home is where I'll be,
No quest can tempt me from this spot; I'm quite content, you see!"
Millicent Gearwright knew her friend well and stepped outside the tumbledown cottage he called home. She knew once he moved from Vaporshade to Gearturn he was a man of talent. Vaporshade, known for art and whimsy, a beautiful world of free spirits, uninhibited by work and structure.
Without a knock at the door, Millicent entered, saying, “Time to rise and shine, Orin, I’ve brought our beryllium copper friend Quark to help you find the rest of the day.”
Brass in color, absent of magnetic prowess or electric spark, Quark stood 1600.2 millimeters tall and had immense strength. Powerful enough to lift Orin’s bed, with Orin still in it, with ease. He carried the bed and man to the door, which was too narrow to fit horizontally.
"Oh, Quark, my friend, not too high, not too small, your robotic skills can conquer it all!
But I implore you, spare me this quest, no adventures today, just let me rest.
I cling to my bed as you rotate with ease,
Through the door we go, but oh, pretty please,
Let me slumber and dream, I beg of you,
No excitement today, just sleep will do!"
Quark began to shake the bed until Orin fell to the floor. “No need for the bed,” Quark said, putting it back in place. Picking up Orin, he added, “Ms. Millicent needs your help. The alarm of opportunity is ringing, and it's time to answer the call. Wake up and let your passion be your guide!"
Orin dangled at the hand of Quark, not for the first time, and said, "Alright, my friend Quark, I'll come along for the ride,
Tell me the trouble, and I'll ponder it with pride.
As you carry me forth, I'll mull over the dilemma,
Together we'll find a solution, a real stemwinder!"
“My hypothesis: time is malfunctioning,” she got to the quick of it. Pointing to the sky, the plants, pets, and people they passed along the way to her workshop. Somewhere between the world of dreams and consciousness, Orin drifted back and forth to understand.
Quark set the man on a swivel chair in the center of Millicent’s workspace. She raised the architect's drafting table and turned the surface forward so he could see her calculations. Orin’s sleepy eyes opened a crack to follow.
“I started to track Chrono Echoes before I came to get you,” She explained pointing to the roof. “The antenna measures the distance between the temporal waves. The direction they com from are an echo of the past, reverberating off planets and stars across the universe,” she pointed to the map on the turned table, “The spectral analyzer is pointing here. To the edge of the known galaxy.”
"A long way to go, you say? Oh my, oh my!
But why choose us for this task, and not some other guy?
In the face of something so grand, what difference can we make?
Perhaps finding someone else in charge is the path to take!"
As quickly as it arrived, the change of color in the sky stopped. Millicent looked out the window to see that Mr. Sprocket had finally made it out the door with Coggie, and the plants had returned to normal. "Just like that, it stopped?" she wondered aloud. "There must be something or someone causing this; we must go to the source. A malfunction could not right itself."