Chapter One – Induction
Soundtrack: The Logical Song by Supertramp
February 9th, 1880.
The bitterly cold winter morning cast an indelible pall on the port town of Hastings in the county of East Sussex. As all in the town knew, an abject tragedy had befallen the noble line that sat in the town for centuries. For today was the day that Lord Cormac Ozpin, Baron of Hastings and Labour parliamentarian, had to bury his wife, sons, sister and brother-in-law after their private yacht capsized off the coast of the Isle of Man the week before.
As a result. the wind-swept grass he and his lone remaining family member stood upon in their manor's grounds was coated in mildew and melting snow, mingling with the tears the pair of them had shed onto the headstones that now lay atop the remains of Lady Julia, Benjamin and David Ozpin, along with Sir Paul and Lady Agnes Pine.
Ozpin shuddered as the graves were filled in, feeling the cold more than he'd ever done in the preceding five decades of his life. But he wasn't the faintest bit concerned with his well-being; not with his twelve-year old nephew and new heir sobbing into his jacket, cast adrift without his parents. As their friends walked inside with the priest and the gravediggers took their leave, Lord Ozpin wrapped an arm around his remaining family member in a sidehug.
"Let them rest, Oscar," he hoarsely croaked as he began to walk towards the door to the manor.
Sniffing, Oscar nodded mutely as the two trudged through the snow to the warmth of the hearth.
After the rest of the people had left, Lord Ozpin sat Oscar down in his study that evening.
"Oscar," he began while looking him in the eye, "after everything that's happened, I've been reconsidering your future. Now, as I'm sure you know, your father and I were both going to send you and your cousins to Winchester School over in Hampshire."
"That's true, uncle Cormac," Oscar replied.
"However," Lord Ozpin continued, "I have decided not to force you to go there, in light of all this. If you choose to attend a day school here or nearby, I will arrange that for you."
Oscar nodded resignedly with a frown. "I'll think about it, uncle," he said. "But I don't want to forsake my chances at getting somewhere in life, just because of this. My father always said I needed to become more independent; perhaps Winchester will allow me to do that."
"As you wish," Lord Ozpin replied. "But all the same, I'm leaving the decision to you, and you alone. I only want to look after you as best I can."
"Of course, uncle Cormac," Oscar replied calmly, but with pain lingering in his verdant eyes. "I understand completely."
Bowing politely, the youth left his uncle's study and retreated to his room for a nap. Meanwhile, the parliamentarian held his head in his hands, weary from the pain and agonising indecision wracking his brain. Lord Ozpin found himself reluctant to let go of the only person he cherished in the world now. But alas, he knew it was important for Oscar to become his own man and forge his own path, that Oscar's choice be respected. Reluctantly, the fifty-year old noble reached for the telephone.
April 8th, 1891.
Oscar Pine, as usual, was feeling nervous. Not only was he set to embark on the first job he'd undertaken since finishing his materials engineering degree in Oxford, it was also the only chance he had to make himself a name before his uncle's baronetcy fell on his shoulders. Given that said uncle was Lord Ozpin, the Prime Minister of the incumbent government and one of the highest-ranked barons in the country, the pressure of success Oscar felt was like a millstone around his mind.
On this fine spring morning, the young man in a mint-green suit was sitting in the foyer of the Schnee Tower, wringing his hands as he focused on his breathing to steady his nerves. As more and more people reported in for work, Oscar found himself resorting to his lone comfort in stressful times; reading. Retrieving his current favourite from his satchel, Oscar opened it to the bookmark and began to relax as he let his mind engorge itself on the viscera of Pit and the Pendulum. He remained calm for several minutes before a warm Mancunian voice called to him.
"Mister Pine?"
Oscar looked up, and saw the voice's owner. A svelte, maroon-haired young woman in a grey pant-suit stood a metre before him, with a pair of kind eyes that resembled storm clouds. The clipboard and pen in her hand told Oscar that she was a secretary of some sort, most likely for the man he'd need to report to.
"H-hello there," Oscar started, rising out of the chair he'd been ensconced in. "You're here to lead me to General Ironwood's office, I presume?"
"Correct," the woman replied, smiling softly. "I'm Ilia Amitola, and I'm his secretary. Ironwood would've come down himself, but he's had to take a phone call from one of his officers."
"That's understandable," Oscar affirmed as the pair walked into the carriage of the lift. Ilia pressed the button for the fifteenth floor out of the thirty-seven that the Tower boasted, and the lift's verdant Dust circuits began their work. Oscar took the opportunity to place his book within his satchel, which Ilia took notice of.
"You read Poe as well?", she asked with some surprise.
Oscar turned to face her. "Y-yes, I do," he replied with a growing smile. "What's your favourite of his?"
"Masque of the Red Death", Ilia responded promptly. "Though I'm currently churning through the Nantucket novel he wrote as well."
"That's a good one," Oscar averred. "I'm personally reading a new author at the moment; Arthur Conan Doyle. He's written a couple of excellent mystery novels of late."
"Yes, I've heard of him," Ilia admitted with a slight smile as the carriage stopped at the fifteenth floor. "The Sign of Four is his latest release, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is," Oscar replied as they stepped out of the lift. "A good story, to be sure, although A Study In Scarlet was more vivid to my mind."
"Fair enough," Ilia conceded as they moved towards the checkpoint that sat between the lifts and the militarised security headquarters. Ilia promptly held out her lanyard for the men working the booth.
"What about the young man behind you, Miss Amitola?", one of the guards asked.
"He's here to receive his card."
"Ah, I see," the guard replied. "Come on through, son."
"Thank you sir," Oscar responded as he walked on through towards the security offices with Ilia.
Before long, the pair of bibliophiles entered Ilia's office, which provided a convenient buffer between the General's office and the rest of the building. The desk was mahogany, with a top-of-the-line Analytical Engine to the right of Ilia's swivel chair. On her left was a gantry of telephones; most of these were hard-wired to the various sections of the company under Ironwood's watch, while two of them were for external and general calls and one was a hotline to the President's office.
"I'll check if the General's free first," Ilia said, before knocking on the door on the left side of her station.
"Is that you, Ilia?", General Ironwood called from beyond.
"Yes sir," Ilia said, poking her head around the door. "Mr. Pine's here for his card."
"Very well," the general responded. "Show him in."
"Certainly sir," Ilia vowed, before shepherding Oscar in. "I'll see you at lunch," she whispered in his ear with a small smile.
Oscar smiled at Ilia, before turning to face his new employer. The General stood up from his desk, and extended his artificial hand.
"Welcome to the militarised security division of the Schnee Dust Company, Mr. Pine," he greeted with a firm smile as Oscar shook his hand.
"Thank you kindly, General," the younger man replied with nervous eagerness. Upon removing his hand, Oscar realised that Ironwood had placed something within it. It was a lanyard that had a laminated card with his name and division printed upon it. Quickly, Oscar donned the lanyard as Ironwood nodded in approval.
"Be sure to keep that on you at all times, Oscar," Ironwood continued. "Where you're going to be working, you'll need it."
"Of course sir," Oscar affirmed. "Out of interest, where exactly do you have me working in this department? I only know that I'm interning with you."
"In our research and development department," Ironwood responded. "To be specific, you'll be aiding Dr. Pietro Polendina and Dr. Obadiah Merlot in the robotics field for a top-secret project. One that will change the face of automation, combat, and perhaps the perception of life itself forever. They are creating a prescient, evolving being – and you are tasked with making it appear and behave like an ordinary human. Now, I'll escort you to the laboratory, to meet your superiors and familiarise you with the layout of the area."
A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone.
This is the sixth entry in the Belladonna Lilies series - and possibly the final one from me in the whole series.
The title is the Latin translation of "Mechanical Orange", because they didn't have one for clockwork. So yes, Oscar's going to help create Penny in this fic. That's all I'm saying about the plot at this point.
I'm not keeping to a strict release schedule with this work, but I hope to have it finished by the end of next year.
I truly hope you all enjoy this next installment of the Belladonna Lilies AU.