(no subject)
The pitchman's harangue drew my attention to the scaffolding. I know not why I looked up. It's easy to be distracted, I suppose, considering the offal and ocher down here on the cobbles. The stench of the day was something that resembled wet, spoiled cabbage. Easy enough to only need the glimmer of a reason to look up.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the pitchman said again. "It falls to me to speak to you about an incredible new invention being adopted by our gracious sovereign in order that his government may keep in touch with our holdings amongst the European continent."
The man carried a cane, which he used for emphasizing gesticulations. He certainly did not need it for walking, since he was pacing back and forth across the front of the stage like some sleek predator. "Some of you, I'm sure, have family or friends, perhaps business dealings, out in Europe. So you know, or at least are aware, of the deplorable condition of the lines of communication between here and the Colonies."
This part of his pitch I knew well and could personally vouch for. My sister and her husband were in Araby on his oil estate. Easily nine or ten months would go by as a letter from one of us struggled to meet the other. And while our correspondence was always important, at least for us, I could not fathom trying to conduct governmental or other business in such a fashion.
"Imagine!" the pitchman went on, "if you could send a message and have it be received...in minutes! Imagine what that could do for his majesty's government!"
I didn't need any prodding to consider what such an increase in speed might mean. Nor did I really pause to consider the military applications of such a device.
With this, the pitchman made a gesture and a burly man stepped forward to pull a large tarpaulin down. It had been up at the back of the stage as a sort of backdrop, and revealed the devices of which he had been speaking. And it was a pair of devices, which made perfect sense, for you would need to send, yes, but have a place to send to as well.
Imagine, if you will, beginning with the legs and body of a squat harpsichord. Where the keys would be, however, there is nothing but a metal plaque. There were a number of coiled wires and cables leading from various boxes to the centerpiece of the device: a young woman's face. More than just her face, mind you, but not the whole head. Looking at one side, it became clear that head stopped right behind the ears, though the full portion of the jaw appeared to be intact. The face stared straight ahead, blankly, mouth hanging slack. Both devices were exactly the same.
"Behold: the odiscope," the barker called out. "May I have a volunteer from the audience for a demonstration?"
Perhaps I was too stricken by the strange machines in front of me, but the barker was able to part the meager crowd in front of me with a wave of his cane. "You, sir," he said, and though there was nothing wrong with the tone of his voice, it felt more like a command than a request. With the eyes of everyone upon me, my feet moved of their own accord to the steps at the side of the stage. Once on his level, he grasped my hand, shook it, and demanded of me my name.
I told him. He then asked me of any family members far away that I would talk to more often if I could. I told him of my sister in Araby and he nodded al the while. "Yes, of course, across the ocean in the Colonies, of course. Never an easy thing to get word all the way to Araby."
There was a moment's uncertain pause before he moved onto the next segment of his routine. "We have not met before now, have we?"
I said that no, I was from the town and there were no doubt several people in the street even now who could vouch for that fact. He nodded appreciatively.
"Go there...to the device on the left. Whisper something in its ear. Something you would tell your sister if you could."
I went and leaned in close to the ear of the girl's face, the one mounted on the machine. The skin at the rim of the face, that marked the demarcation between flesh and machine, was smooth and shiny, as though sealed but without use of thread of any sort. The slack in the face remained, right up until I began to speak to it, in hushed tones. I felt, rather than saw, the ear perk up. I felt some kind of odd attention fall on me.
Once I had finished with the message, I heard the face's doppleganger speak from the other side of the stage.
It is hard to relate exactly how the voice sounded. It was low and hoarse and struggling, as though it were trying to make human vocal sounds through a voice box composed of nothing but dry twigs.
"The baby had the croup last month...but is better. Hope all is well on the estate. Our love to Arthur and your girls." Then the name of myself and my wife. And as the woman-faced machine struggled to relate my message to the barker, and in turn, the rest of the onlookers, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. My words, intended with love for my sister, were reduced to whispers from some mechanical apparition.
The barker turned to me, "That was your message?"
I nodded.
"In its entirety?"
I nodded again. I was not sure if I could trust my own voice. I was afraid it might have turned to dry struggles in my own throat as well. But I need not have worried, for someone towards the front of the crowd asked my question for me: "How is this possible? What magic is this?"
The barker smiled. This was all, all of it, going according to his script, apparently. "No magic at all, good sir. We have merely taken the natural affinity of twins and amplified them via the use of these machines. Twins of either sex, male or female, though females are better for range. The crown will pay well for those families willing to sacrifice for the good of his majesty."
I made my way down from the stage, my lips and ears feeling filthy from participating in this display. I had met at least two families with twins in my time here. And one I knew would seriously consider offering up their children. The other one would not even need to consider the prospect.
I was moving slowly, as though through a pool of deep water, for the barker's companion was able to catch my arm before I could return to the comforting anonymity of the crowd. His grip was strong and he kept me from escaping.
"That's not all of them," he said in a hushed voice.
"What?" I asked him.
"That's not all of them," he said again, continuing under the rumbling of the crowd as they looked at the devices. "What, you think we would waste the rest? It's amazing what you can send long distances, you know."
I looked up and caught the barker's eye. He smiled at me. We were both in on a secret, though I didn't wish to know anymore of it.
"Fraternal twins work the best for that, though. Male/female...you know. We could arrange a demonstration of that, too," the man said. "We have someone in Londontown on call."
Somehow I managed to pull free of his grip and entered the crowd without looking back. And eventually even the booming voice of the barker was gone as well. I slept that night fitfully, and dreamed that they had split our daughter in two and were using her for...communication.
It's nightmares like that which eventually fade and are replaced with new horrors. Just like the smell on the streets. Never the same for very long. And eventually, exposed to it enough, you forget it's even there.
