Free The Rise of Ransom City by Felix Gilman Page A

apprehension and excitement. What happened next was poorly timed. The Process became imbalanced and immediately the Apparatus kicked and a surge of power went out of it into the Ether and startled the Atoms and the lamps all burst, costing me a substantial sum of money. For an instant the meeting-hall was filled with blazing light like the Silver City of Heaven itself. Through the window you could see a distant flash of blue-white flame as the lamp on the blacksmith’s roof burst, wirelessly and simultaneously and without loss of power. Without finishing my sentence I slammed shut my mouth and leapt for the emergency lever that sent the Process into reverse. It seemed to push back, like the Process had its own ambitions toward increase. My face smarted like I had spent too long in the hot sun. I threw my whole weight on the lever, even to the point of lifting my feet from the floor. It would not move. It may be that the problem was not so much that the lever was too stiff, as that I was not heavy enough. I mean that it is possible that I was getting less heavy with each passing instant— when the Process starts to run wild it plays tricks with Gravity. Sometimes you feel like you are no more than a shadow of yourself, or a paper-thin poster. I regret that I have never been able to study this phenomenon as it deserves, due to the fact that it manifests perceptibly only in conditions of extreme and mounting danger. What I believe it proves is that every kind of force is inter-linked, as I had been trying to explain to the people of Kenauk, and nothing is truly separate or divided from anything else, which was a beautiful notion though this was not how I would have chosen to demonstrate it. One also notices at these moments that time seems to stretch out infinitely. I do not know whether this is a side-effect of the Process or whether it is just because of good old ordinary terror. What I do know is that suddenly Mr. Carver added his weight on top of mine and the lever creaked and dropped a notch and then another notch. There was something solid about Mr. Carver. He was a rock, fortune smile on him— in fact for a moment I could have sworn there were two of him— anyhow the lever fell a third and a fourth notch and then there was a beautiful clunk-clunk and whir as the magnets altered their spin, first slowing and then reversing, and then the lever rapidly dropped the remaining notches to its nadir and the light ceased and Carver and I fell on top of each other. The meeting-hall plunged into an utter darkness which instantly became like Hell itself, or like I imagine the Lodge of the Guns is, by which I mean full of screaming and wailing and purposeless violence.

    Unless you have been living in a hut in the woods these past few years, dear reader, I guess you have heard how dangerous the Process can be. But the people of Kenauk did not know, not back then. I don’t think they apprehended the danger they had nearly been in. I myself only dimly intuited the dangers of the Process in those days. I think the people of Kenauk panicked because after what I had just dared to say the sudden darkness seemed like a blow struck by the Powers themselves— as if the wrath of the Engines had come roaring down from Harrow Cross like a rocket, or like the Guns had spat some vile hex from out of their Lodge. Or maybe it was just that I had raised everyone’s hopes and then dashed them. The meeting-hall had been crowded before but now it seemed packed to the rafters with faceless figures, shouting and jostling. Anyhow I got a few good bruises and so did Mr. Carver. At one point I thought I would be dragged down into the mob and torn limb from limb. There were a number of hands on me and they were tearing at my suit. They were all asking me questions at once and I did not know what to say.
    A hand gripped mine and pulled me back and when I turned I was surprised and delighted to see that it belonged to Miss Harper. I said to her that I