The Device Hunter Excerpt - The Wheel House
From where they stood next to Chiller on the Controller’s platform inside the Wheel House, Meade could see iron staircases that led to catwalks high above them, stretching far out in the distance and deep below into the depths of the cavernous shell. Cogs of all sizes, some as large as houses, others no bigger than a man’s fist were in constant motion, turning in all directions. Some so fast they were a blur, others with such methodical slowness they seemed to stand still. The heat was phenomenal. There were children, boys everywhere. Each cog that was large enough to hold a child had one strapped in. The kids, stripped down to loose loincloths, were running. Their eyes were vacant, mouths slack, sweat streaming off them. As he watched, a boy of about eight collapsed. The restraints stopped him from being flung off and crushed in the teeth of the cogs around him. Older boys dressed in black loincloths, slid down taught wires from the roof, attached a belt with a line to the unconscious kid, unhitched him from the wheel and put a fresh boy in his place. Taking the comatose child with them, they flew back up and across to the changeover platform, where an older boy stood waiting to take the child from them and carry him off to the infirmary. The whole operation took no more than a matter of seconds. The wheels hadn’t stopped turning.
At this rate, most of these boys wouldn’t live long enough to hear their voices break, Meade thought. He felt Wort move closer to his side.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on Wort, Chiller.”
“Glad to hear, Mr. Meade.” The rolls of gelatinous flesh quivered around the fat man’s neck. “Glad to hear. These little ‘uns, they need keeping an eyeball on.” He winked knowingly at the tall man. Meade turned his head slowly to look at him. Chiller’s face lost its colour. The Hunter seemed to grow, to loom over him, like the shadow of some dark, winged creature. The angel of death came forcibly to mind.
“Think of me as the Second Coming.” Meade said quietly.
Chiller swallowed. “Quite.”
At this rate, most of these boys wouldn’t live long enough to hear their voices break, Meade thought. He felt Wort move closer to his side.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on Wort, Chiller.”
“Glad to hear, Mr. Meade.” The rolls of gelatinous flesh quivered around the fat man’s neck. “Glad to hear. These little ‘uns, they need keeping an eyeball on.” He winked knowingly at the tall man. Meade turned his head slowly to look at him. Chiller’s face lost its colour. The Hunter seemed to grow, to loom over him, like the shadow of some dark, winged creature. The angel of death came forcibly to mind.
“Think of me as the Second Coming.” Meade said quietly.
Chiller swallowed. “Quite.”
