1. The Reluctant

The mist formed a walking shadow. It grew in size as it approached. It walked with a cool clean demeanor. Almost a century has passed since I last stood here. He dropped a package on the ground, and disappeared back into the mist. No words were exchanged, no passing glances, this was business.

The package was heavy. It’s usually just a photograph with an appointment written on the back. The appointment was with a young woman, Isabelle. Inside the box laid a large water tank, a pair of boots, a pair of gloves, and rubber tubing connecting it all. The device was simple and complex at the same time. A three chamber tank held NaCl, water, and steam together in a small space. Steam would build in the topmost chamber and could be released though hydraulics in the gloves. The pressure was directed down and though the heels of the boots. This wasn’t a flying machine; it probably couldn’t lift its own weight. It was a booster of sorts.

Isabelle was easy to find. She worked near her appointed place. Maybe it would be an industrial accident. She wasn’t a pretty girl. Her hair was dark and matted with grime. It was long and clumps fell into her eyes frequently. Her clothing was old and stained. Not even second hand, it was fourth hand stuff. The kind of clothing children wear in the workhouses. The package said she was only 20, but she looked 32. She was unmarried with no friends. She was the perfect target.

Thursday came as it often does. Her appointment was in the alley behind the factory where she worked. It was 10pm and dark. All the factories had shut down for the night. Her appointment wasn’t for another 20 minutes. She walked out of the building. She was alone. This is a rough area for a girl to wonder around alone. Dumb drunk factory workers could be worse than an industrial accident (and usually were the cause of such accidents.)

Like a mouse sensing a cat, her head perked up. She looked down the alley way, her ears twitching. She knew she was being watched. I smiled. Her body shook with fear. The game was on.

She was prepared. She ran inside of the building and hit the emergency lock down button. Large metal plates slid down over the windows and doors. The sides of the factory were suddenly armor plated. Before long she appeared on the roof. She looked down into the alley way, searching. Nothing moved. She still had another 11 minutes before her appointment. She disappeared on the roof for a moment. Then she burst over the edge. She made a jump for the factory across the alley. Mid jump she hit the switch and was propelled to the other side. She landed on her knees. Not bad for a first try. She ran again at full speed to the next building over. Once again she boosted her way across the gap. She landed on her hands and feet this time. She jumped from building to building, across streets and alley ways. And then she made her final mistake. She came back to the alleyway.

What she didn’t know was that the steam boots she was using were not the boots she had invented. Her boots had been switched with the ones in the package. Perfect replicas all the way down to her initials carved on the ankle brace. These boots, the ones she now wore, had been timed specifically for this night.

At 10:37pm she made her leap back over the alley to her factory. And at exactly 40^th of a second into her jump, the rubber hose cracked. Steam burst from its well controlled path. She was off balance and lacked the power she had relied on.

She met her appointment, like they always do, on time and in the right place.