A Heart of Steel

[TheBabblingBard]

This is a work that I consider one of my greatest projects. I'm planning to continue it during the summer after exams. I would very much like to hear your thoughts of it.

Chapter 1: Acceptance and Acquiescence

"... and so, my fellow colleagues, I humbly and graciously thank you for this privilege, as it enables me to proceed further in my studies and discoveries in the fields of engineering and parapsychology."

The hall resonated in polite applause as Raisa Drozna, her face blank, but full of concealed pride, descended from the podium from which she addressed the faculty of Oxford University. Gaining this Master Degree was almost like a blessing for her, especially in a world that was dominated by knowledge and sciences. The year is 1896. Many technological findings have been made ever since Charles Babbage had created The Machine, back in 1873. Anyone who succeeded in pursuing a career in the sciences was considered lucky, because most attempts by scientists ended in failure. Raisa had been one of those failures a few weeks before the end of her term at Oxford. She had gone everywhere across Europe, obtaining scholarships and wasting them on failed years of study, until now. The reason why she had succeeded only this time was because of her extensive research in her own innate ability that she had inherited with both her parents – ESP. This ability was actually one of the reasons for her talent in concealing emotions from other people.

Smoothing out the ruffled fabric of her skirt, Raisa took her seat in between two other graduates. The nerves that made her body tremble ten minutes ago were now gone, although her head was suffering from a mild migraine that might have been caused by the circulation of thoughts that was spread throughout the hall of ceremony, and her Occulumency has become weaker due to her nerves at the beginning of her speech. The certificate felt very grainy in her hands, as it was made from recycled paper and was getting softer from the perspiration from her hands. She ignored most of the dean's final speech, and just wished that she could simply go back to her lodging and lay her head on the soft, cool surface of the pillow and just let the reality of her accomplishment sink in. Clearing the mind, last of all, she imagined would be pure bliss.

Suddenly the last thunder of applause interrupted her thoughts and a hundred voices resonated in the hall and everyone was finally getting their belongings together, preparing to leave. Raisa stood up along with them, putting on her burgundy coat, as the large iron-bound doors opened to snowy, murky Oxford streets.

"Miss Drozna, may I have a word with you?" Raisa turned her head to see a tall, middle-aged man walk up to her.

"Of course," Raisa replied, putting her briefcase down. She studied him for a second, taking notice of his long greying hair that was pulled into a ponytail, and an equally greying beard. He had an understanding smile that played about his lips and a pair of striking green eyes was observing her amusedly, one from beneath a monocle.

"You may or may not have heard of me, but my name is Sir Reginald Winterbottom." Raisa took the hand he held out and Sir Winterbottom shook it earnestly.

"I'd like to offer my greatest congratulations on your obtainment of your Master," he continued.

"Thank you very much. I greatly appreciate it, sir," Raisa replied, giving a small smile. Sir Winterbottom's face then became mildly serious.

"It is quite coincidental that you happened to earn it at this point, because I've needed someone who has great knowledge of those two particular fields." He paused, sighing wearily.

"Why so, sir?"

Sir Winterbottom paused for a second.

"Miss Drozna..." he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do you believe that life can be created artificially?" Raisa looked at him, surprised.

"I... never thought about it, really," she said awkwardly. "I've always been told that life was a precious gift and that it can't be tampered with, but with all of our advancements in the past years... it seems almost impossible not to attempt such an endeavour."

"Would you be willing to do so?" Sir Winterbottom asked almost suddenly. Raisa looked at him in bewilderment.

"Oh, n-no! I can't, really I can't! I'm not experienced eno– "

"You've got the two talents that are needed to complete this task. Why should you not be?"

What Sir Winterbottom said was true. Raisa had dedicated her whole life to exercising her psychic powers and at the same time, applying them to technological uses. Not to mention her own collection of gadgets that she had fabricated herself filled the empty space in her basement. She looked at Sir Winterbottom and sighed exasperatedly.

"You're right," she muttered finally. "What is it that you want me to do?" Sir Winterbottom smiled at his victory, and started opening his briefcase. Raisa looked on, curious and a bit suspicious at what might be in store for her.

"Now, where is it?" Sir Winterbottom muttered to himself. The papers in the briefcase looked all jumbled up, which was really unexpected of a man of his calibre. A few minutes passed. Raisa looked over at what the man was searching for, pushing away the silver hair that got in her face as she leaned over.

"A-ha!" Raisa finally heard him exclaim. He held the hand that was holding an old-looking envelope up triumphantly with a silly grin on his face, and then turned back to Raisa, the expression becoming serious again.

"I'd like it if you kept this envelope with you at all times while you're on your way back home. Don't talk to anyone; don't look at it, and try to keep a low profile." Raisa found these words to be ironic and useless, as the things that Sir Winterbottom had told her to do were her daily routine. Nevertheless, she nodded firmly in agreement. The man nodded back.

"Also, I would advise if you didn't open it until you're behind the walls of your house. You'll find more instructions inside it." This almost seemed like a spy mission to Raisa. What would be next – tracking devices? The scepticism etched on her face was starting to recede though, in respect to the diplomat in front of her.

"Yes, sir," was her reply to him before Sir Winterbottom tipped his hat to her and left the hall, surprisingly rushed. Raisa was left to ponder at what had just happened during these last forty-five minutes.  

[TheBabblingBard]

Chapter 2: A Hint in Print

The weather outside was just as Raisa had predicted it: wind and sleet. It was to be expected, though. England was the country in the world that had the highest reputation for having considerable amounts of precipitation. Raisa's coat and hood didn't do much to solve her temperature problem. The wind was blowing straight against her, and she now wished that she could have taken an omnibus. She then compared the warmth of the bus to the warmth of her house. The house's judgement triumphed. This thought encouraged her to move on. One thing that Raisa was thankful for was the fact that she didn't live far from the university.

Now she realized how even more useless Sir Winterbottom's cautions were at this moment. No one in their right mind would be walking outside in this weather. The streets were empty, and not even the animals were out. There might have been a few carriages, but not many.

At long last, Raisa saw the sign that said "Blackhall Road" and went towards it in a sprint, and slipped on the icy pavement. She had a little difficulty getting up as the pavement wouldn't let her get a firm grip on it while she lifted herself. After the third try, she managed to get up less than happy, but relieved that she was close to home. Almost there, she thought, getting a glimpse of number 46. The shingles on the roof were completely covered in ice that they almost looked as if they were made of glass. Raisa walked to her tall, distinguished house, careful not to slip on its steps that were lined with wrought-iron railings. She then took out her key and inserted it into the lock on her door. When it clicked, she quickly rushed inside, slamming the door firmly against the wind that tried to intrude. Out of breath, Raisa noticed the absence of warmth that she was waiting for in her house. She then proceeded to light the little stove that sat innocently in the corner of her drawing room. Sitting in the armchair beside the stove, Raisa pondered further about the things that happened that day.

If I'm going to go through with this, the first thing I'll need is money. Otherwise, how am I going to procure all of my materials and equipment? The junk I have in the basement won't suffice. I must have a professional amount of things to work with. But where would she get the money? This sparked up a million doubts in her mind. The most reasonable thing to do would be to either apply for a part-time job, or to find sponsors who would support the project. Raisa then decided to open the envelope. The paper was old and worn, as if it has been passed through countless hands. Inside it was a piece of paper, thickly folded, and another that was only folded once. Figuring that she didn't want to waste her time unfolding the crazy paper, Raisa opened the thinner paper. Curiously, there were tally marks on the top right-hand corner of the page. They read as seventeen. Looking at the signature at the bottom, she noticed that it had letters that resembled Sir Winterbottom's initials. The letter read:

To the person who receives this letter, by now you probably understand the seriousness of the task you are about to perform. By no means are you permitted to confide in anyone what you are doing, and you must never keep your project in any place where it can be visible to the public. I beseech you to use your talents wisely.
Drawn out on the second sheet of paper are the blueprints that you will follow when creating these subjects. You may add your own changes to them if you wish, but I advise you to make sure that they do not ruin the design or makeup of the subjects. I urge you good luck, and hope that you will succeed with this rare task.

-Sir R.W.

And so, was revoked the plan of finding sponsors. The alternative didn't seem to look too good, either, because would a part-time job pay enough to be able to purchase building material? If Raisa were to get a job, who would hire her? Putting the thought aside for later, she took the second sheet of paper that was thickly folded. Unraveling it fold by fold, Raisa began to glimpse some of the diagrams that were drawn on the paper. On the completely-unfolded paper was a diagram of a pair of mechas, who, judged on their physical appearance, looked to be female. Raisa then noticed a small inscription below each one. Below the left diagram, the inscription read "Gorite," while "Aphrium" read below the right one. These two names stroke a memory within Raisa, back to when she was studying rare metals. These were amongst the scarcest minerals to exist on this planet – and here they were, encrypted on a blueprint for mechas. This made the task of simply procuring materials not only difficult, but next to impossible. The procuring of even a small portion of these metals involved digging deep mines in the Earth's crust, in such places as the Antarctic and Ethiopia. Raisa could not imagine how crazy Sir Winterbottom must have been to have concocted a plan so impossible. The tally marks on the top of the page slowly started making more sense now – they represented the number of people through whom this page has been passed. Raisa could only absently sympathize to these poor buggers.

But there was something else... something she had not noticed before. It was written in a tiny scrawl at the bottom of the page. Too small for Raisa to squint at with her naked eye, she rushed into her basement, switched a gas lamp on, opened one of the smaller drawers of her private cabinet and withdrew her hand that was now holding a small finger-sized microscope. Holding the page to the lamplight, Raisa looked at the scrawl through the microscope. This one, although a bit blurry, read "22 Winchester Road; see Abel." Another encrypted message. Could this be a hint of some sort? Skeptical though she was, Raisa couldn't let this opportunity go nowhere. Better done sooner than later, she thought grudgingly. As if getting through those painstaking studies in one piece wasn't enough...  

[koi19]

Chapter 1 seems interesting enough but it feels to be lacking a little, mostly in set up. A women just obtained her masters in science in 1896. You might want to go into a little more detail about the time period.

Also, is it common knowledge that Raisa has ESP and such? Winterbottom doesn't specify but that's immediately what she thinks he's talking about.

I don't have much to say in regards to the second chapter but I'm intrigued enough to wait for the next chapter to see where this goes.  

[TheBabblingBard]

koi19

Chapter 1 seems interesting enough but it feels to be lacking a little, mostly in set up. A women just obtained her masters in science in 1896. You might want to go into a little more detail about the time period.

Also, is it common knowledge that Raisa has ESP and such? Winterbottom doesn't specify but that's immediately what she thinks he's talking about.

I don't have much to say in regards to the second chapter but I'm intrigued enough to wait for the next chapter to see where this goes.

In response to your concern about the details you're missing, this is, in most accurate terms, an alternate history where women's rights came sooner than in our universe. And no, it is not common knowledge that she has ESP, Winterbottom has just been keeping close tabs on her through her professors and such.

I actually almost abandoned this story, to be honest. It's due to the fact that I had to end the story at the third chapter originally - and that was because I procrastinated on this as it was an assignment for my Writer's Craft class. I may continue this story sometime, but not anytime soon. Right now I'm more focused on getting into uni for post-ed.