Full Steam Ahead!

The issue with Yuan’s heart is that it doesn’t beat correctly.

So, Juni thinks, the answer is obvious: if it could beat like a clock, then it would function perfectly fine. Clockwork bits are used for plenty of things, so why can’t they be applied to the body? As long as the heart is kept properly wound and its cogs well-oiled, then it would beat for an eternity. 

She is aware that the idea is absolutely absurd. On paper, it looks bad but when explained, it sounds even worse. Juni is a thinker, a woman of ideas but this just might be the wildest she’s ever thought. 

Eventually, someone is intrigued and pays a visit to her shop, an old and cantankerous woman with a face split by a mean scowl; the stern sort that would govern children’s minds with sharp-handed wit. 

“If you’re here to gawk and chide, then do me a favor and leave,” says Juni as she pours over her plans. She doesn’t look up from her drafting table, fingers curling deftly over straight rules, making marks. 

“Gawk and chide?” The old woman scoffs, offended. “And to think I came here to offer my services.”

Juni pauses in her work, finally looking up. “And what can you possibly offer me?”

The woman’s face is craggy, lined heavily with age. She’s prim and proper, put together exceptionally well, and she leans ever-so-slightly on the folded parasol in her palm. 

“I’ve heard of your idea for a clockwork heart, as well as your skill when it comes to mechanics. However, brilliant as you may be, your knowledge only lies with those screws and rusted cogs.”

“And so?” Juni regards her coolly, turning to lean against her table. 

“And so, I am a doctor. I’m curious as to your plans and I think that together we just might make it work.” She doesn’t seem to be joking. She watches Juni back with a gaze as severe as a Sunday morning service. 

Juni cocks her head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “A doctor?”

“Admittedly retired, but with plenty of free time.” The woman smooths out the wrinkles in her walking skirt. “So, can I see the drafts or not?”

Juni’s mouth curls into a smile as she steps to the side and motions to her work.

#

Hours, days, and weeks go into building a prototype. 

Juni mulls through equations and dreams of numbers. She tinkers and fiddles with metals and mechanics. All the while, Agnes talks nonsense in her ears. The old woman was right, of course. Juni might know her clockworks but she knows nothing about veins and organs. 

“The aorta—here—” Agnes points to her human schematics spread across the drafting table. “As long as the tubing is sturdy, we should be able to sew it and the other vessels together for adequate blood flow. Barring infection, the skin should heal around the metal decently enough.”

“Decently enough isn’t enough.”

Agnes blinks. “Have you forgotten the worst case is the only case at the moment?”

No, Juni hasn’t. 

And so, the plans are set and a model is made. Juni starts on a miniature scale with pliers and tweezers and pocket watch parts. She solders and sands, and eventually, the mock-up is crafted. 

“Is it crooked?” asks Agnes, her nose turned up stiff.

Yes, just a bit, but Juni polishes the tarnished metal. A crooked first try is better than no try at all. 

The next goal is simpler, just a little bit. Get the pocket watch gears to turn cleanly. With a good and proper oil, they squeal against each other as they move and Juni lets out a heavy sigh of relief.

Tubings and gaskets, the construction of the artificial heart chamber; time goes by quicker than not. Juni and Agnes don’t sleep nearly enough, wholly engrossed in their labor of love. 

The scientific process, thinks Juni, feeling marginally accomplished. Little by little is better than the alternative, which is worse.

#

It is only a matter of working out the kinks. At least, that’s what Juni tells herself with every experiment that seems to fail. 

But then the rat lives to see a few weeks post-implantation and the cat fares far better, though it’s rather annoyed by the delicate heart. Better than expected, to the relief of Juni and Agnes.

“My life’s work, all down to this,” says Agnes one night. She pokes and prods at the cat, checking for any potential infection. All the cat does is yowl in return, entirely vexed.

“Is that a complaint?” asks Juni with a grin. 

“Of course, not.” Agnes drops the cat’s paw and turns back to Juni. “Think of the future of medicine, think of what we’re doing for women! Men have come up with lesser ideas that the public clings to.”

Juni chuckles. “All these late nights—absolutely worth it.”

And Agnes, in rare form, smiles right back.

#

“It is risky,” says Agnes with her usual severity. “There is no use in lying, or sugarcoating the truth.”

Yuan’s mother smiles sadly, brushing her fingers through her boy’s hair. “Yes, well, as it stands there is nothing to lose, is there? Just do your best and give us a shred of hope.”

Juni assists in the surgery and nearly hurls when she sees the inside of the boy’s chest cavity. 

“We’re on borrowed time,” says Agnes, watching as Juni holds her brilliantly built invention. The clockwork heart is sturdy in her hands despite its tarnished appearance and pilfered clock parts. 

They nestle the heart into Yuan’s chest, connecting all the odds and ends. 

“Well then,” says Agnes softly, nodding to the turnkey. “It’s now or never.”

Juni takes a deep breath as she winds the clock. 

#

Years later, Juni sits on her porch as she does every night. It is Sunday, which means she’s paid a visit from her dear friend Agnes who does nothing but complain about the too-bitter tea and the lack of biscuits.

“A nice evening.”

Juni smiles from behind her teacup. “I bet that just aggravates you.” Agnes huffs but her mouth quirks into the barest of grins. 

“Miss Juni!” A boy trips on the steps, barely catching himself in his haste. “Oh, and Miss Agnes.”

“Yuan,” says Agnes, back to her usual primness.

Yuan turns to Juni with a grin. He pulls at the chain around his neck, holding it aloft. “Can you wind me up?”

“Of course,” says Juni, slipping the chain from around his neck. Yuan pulls his shirt from his trousers, holding it up, and Juni slides the turnkey into the crown. She winds the clockwork heart up until the key doesn’t turn anymore.