The Clockmaker's Machine
"Mr. Musgrave, sir," the boy's voice broke in to the noisy workshop.
The inventor paid him no mind, hunched over a wide wooden box on the workbench in front of him, muttering to himself even as the mechanical clicks and whirs drowned out the noise. The sight was not a strange one for young Joshua, a boy plucked from the workhouse to serve as apprentice to the clockmaker. It was a strange duty indeed, and not what the child had expected, but far better than the backbreaking labor and cruel taskmasters of the workhouse. The boy was lucky, and he knew it.
"Mr. Musgrave!" he called again, louder to finally rouse the inventor from his work.
Alistair Musgrave glanced up in surprise, a pair of thick tinted magnifying goggles on his face. "Oi! Joshua, what is it?" he asked his apprentice.
"Lady Asher is here with her houseboy, asking after her mantle clock and bringing an old watch for you to see," the boy reported dutifully. The woman was not a stranger to the shop; it seemed she found reason to visit at least once a week.
At thought of the older woman, Alistair groaned. It seemed as though the Widow Asher had been after him forever, though her less than subtle intent of courting had begun just months following the death of his wife. Wealthy and titled, there were many who might have jumped at Lady Asher's advances, but not Alistair. He saw only his work in his future, and the thought of becoming the rich woman's pet was something he would have no part of.
"Have Daniel package the clock and bring it to her carriage," Alistair directing, pulling off the magnification goggles he wore when working with small parts. His latest project involved several small weights and intricate gears packing inside the bulk of the wooden box, and he had been tinkering with them in an attempt to make it move just a bit faster. Laying on the workbench were a wire-rimmed pair of spectacles, which the inventor slipped on once the goggles had been removed; the goggles themselves were for working in minutia, though the glasses were required to see straight at a distance.
"She says she will speak only to the Master Clockmaker himself, sir," Joshua explaining, knowing full well that his master had been intent on avoid the woman.
Alistair groaned. "I've no time for her foolishness!" he said angrily. "Come see what I've been working on, Joshua."
The boy sidled up to the workbench to inspect the inventor's latest work, just as the older man screwed a brass frontplate back onto the box to hide its inner workings. It was a large square wooden box, solid at first glance but bearing an inset plank a few centimeters down from the top. Fixed to the plate was a large circular copper plate that was elevated just slight off the plank, with four copper prongs standing up to the same height in each corner. There was a soft hum that seemed to be emanating from the prongs, and centered between them, the plate was spinning fast in a counterclockwise motion.
The boy reached to touch the plate, but the inventor's long fingers clasped over his own, shooing his hand away. The man himself made no move to touch it either, as though something harmful might come from interrupting the motion; further inspection made it clear that the edges of the plate were flat and pointed, almost to a blade. Joshua stared in wonder as Alistair himself smiled proudly at the box, his latest work.
"Sir?" Joshua asked, eyes still fixed upon the spinning disc. "What does it... what does it do?"
"Hmm? Oh! Well, it turns, of course," Alistair replied. He glanced at the boy and frowned. "Though for practical purposes, I suppose you're right. It doesn't really do anything of use. Not yet, as it were." The inventor sighed and reached for a scrap cloth on the workbench, wiping the grease and bits of copper filings from his fingertips. "I'd best be getting to Lady Asher. You stay here and watch the machine, be sure it stays turning and if it stops, mark the time, all right?"
He ruffled the boy's hair in an affectionate gesture before taking his coat from where he had draped it across an old stool and turning for the door that led to the storefront. "Oh, and Joshua?" he said, pausing mid-step and glancing over his shoulder. "The fire bucket...?"
"At the back door, full and ready if needed," the boy responded quickly. Checking the fire bucket was his first - and what he considered to be most important - duty of each day in the Musgrave workshop.
Alistair smiled. "That's a good lad," he said with a nod, and straightened his spectacles to go greet Lady Asher's advances.