Submitted for the May 2024 prompt: Gothic Sci-Fi

I was taking tea in the solarium when my butler RKO-5 found me.

 

“Lord Ludley, a missive.”

 

“Hand it over, RK, old chap.”

 

Out from his chest came a small punchcard. I slid it into my reader.

 

“Mother comes with yet another potential bride. These damn courtships keep me from my projects.”

 

“Indubitably, sir.”

 

“Prepare some rooms.” I dismissed RK. I heard his joints jangle as he stomped slowly away.

 

I swirled the dregs of my tea in disgust. Really, Mother, she’ll just run screaming from Amaranthine Manor.

 

As the bells tolled eventide, I was descending the stairs when there was a knock at the window. I threw open the stained glass to find Ravenswell with a gift of a broken watch.

 

“Thank you, Ravenswell.” I pocketed the find and detached the small oilcan at my hip to lubricate his beak.

 

“Caw!”

 

At dinner, looking over a vast empty table, I envisioned another decade alone. Perhaps I could try to entertain this new woman arriving soon.

 

* * *

 

Mother burst in wearing a new-fangled contraption called a hoop skirt, which made her too wide to fit through the parlor door.

 

“I swear, Mother, if that dress were any bigger, I could use it in my next dirigible,” I said, rising from my seat. A burst of giggles erupted from behind her.

 

Trailing Mother’s massive frame like the tail of some mighty comet was a delicate flower of a woman in pink chiffon.

 

“Mortimer, darling, I want you to meet Miss Calliope Danger.”

 

“Pronounced Dawn-je, Lord Ludley,” she said, curtseying.

 

“Enchanté,” I said, bowing. She had sharp eyes, sharper cheekbones, and just the hint of a sternal scar betwixt her bosom. Interesting.

 

“Hmmph! Now that we have made introductions, where is RK with tea?”

 

“Coming, ma’am.” RK bustled in, jangling as much as the cups on his trolley.

 

“Is this the automaton you mentioned, Lady Ludley?” Calliope watched RK as he poured the tea. A whisk erupted from his index finger and stirred briskly before retracting.

 

“My son is an absolute genius with mechanical devices. With affairs of the heart, he is an abysmal failure.”

 

Mother took the proffered tea cup, unable to sit in her ridiculous couture.

 

“Hearts are what we are here for, is it not?” Calliope blushed.

 

“See here, Mother. What did you promise this poor girl?”

 

“Tish-tosh, nothing of the sort. I have long given up trying to extend our family line. We are here for a pressing need — Calliope needs a heart.”

 

I looked up from my biscuit, now clear about the scar on Calliope’s chest. “Surely, Dr. Frankenstein would be of more use.”

 

“That God-complex monster-maker got her into this situation,” said Mother, setting down her tea cup with a clatter.

 

“It’s true, Lord Ludley. My heart, broken after a failed proposal, no longer beat. Frankenstein provided a new one. Since my chest was smaller than the murdered convicts at his disposal, he chose a chimpanzee’s.”

 

“What beats between this lady’s beguiling bosom is a simian heart?” There was a stunned silence save for an awkward “caw” from Ravenswell perched beside me.

 

“Unfortunately, that very heart is failing her,” said Mother.

 

“At first, it was glorious! I could climb trees. Eat my weight in fruit. Then, I started having peculiar affectations. I started grooming my lady’s maid and found myself terribly attracted to hairy men.”

 

“Nothing wrong with that,” I said, making a mental note to have RK stop shaving my back.

 

“None of my desires are lady-like. Please help me.”

 

“Ahh, I see the problem. How am I to assist?” Both women looked at each other in some silent discourse. I looked to Ravenswell.

 

“Mortimer, I need you to fashion a heart. Mechanically flawless and incapable of being hurt.”

 

“Impossible!” I fingered the watch in my pocket.

 

“You create life from scraps of metal. Surely you can design something to aid Calliope?”

 

Calliope looked at me expectantly, jolting something deep within.

 

* * *

 

Entertaining Calliope by day and tinkering at night blurred the edges between my heart and the one I was designing. In the garden, she took to the trees with aplomb. I found her mind as quick as her ability to peel an orange. Even Ravenswell brought her tokens of affection.

 

A fortnight later, I had crafted a proper heart from a music box. The glorious device beat jazz riffs, yet I had no clue how to embed it within her.

 

“I’m neither surgeon nor mad scientist. Take this and find someone to operate.”

 

Calliope held my heart in her hands. “I want no one other than you to place this inside me.”

 

If men could swoon, I would have. Ravenswell perched on my shoulder and tilted his head so his feathers caught what might have been tears.

 

“You could die,” I said. Calliope reached out and pulled a nit from my hair and delicately nibbled it.

 

“I’ll take that risk.” She held the mechanical heart to her bosom so tight I could swear she’d push it between the stitches that lay upon her chest.

 

* * *

 

Calliope lay sedated on the table. RK was ready with the bone saw. None of my previous experiments needed blood drains. None of my past ventures were alive before my procedures. The mechanical heart throbbed on a pillow beside her head. I lifted my scalpel. Ravenswell wiped sweat off my brow.

I steadied my hand, pausing just before touching her sternum.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t feel different. Nary a pain in my chest. What magic is this?” asked Calliope the following morning.

 

“I didn’t do anything,” I whispered.

 

“What?” Mother brandished her serviette at me. “Explain yourself.”

 

“That blasted monkey heart may have flaws, especially in polite society, but I have fallen for Calliope and her feral ways.”

 

“Does she reciprocate this ardor?” asked Mother.

 

“Yes!” she said, with a series of grunts.

 

She came towards me as I stood, leaping onto me with joy.

 

“Your heart? What about your mechanical heart?” asked Mother.

 

“Calliope already has my heart. We beat as one.”