THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER 

A Steampunk fairy tale - written for Forbidden Planet's SFSD 6.0 Round 1 

(With apologies to the Brothers Grimm)

PFFFTTT! HSSSSS! SCREEEEE! 

Jak was certain the machines were screaming! He clapped both hands over his ears as his eyes darted wildly from place to place looking for somewhere to take cover. That was always the first task, find somewhere to be safe. The noise was so intense he couldn't hear himself think. Up above, huge pistons plunged up and down into vast tanks, steam belched from enormous pipes and at floor level he was faced with a series of square metal objects more than twice his height. Totally bewildered he spun slowly around in a circle. Everything was black with grime and dirt. Where was the shiny silver steel? The beautiful glossy brass fittings? The polished handles made of real wood? 

Where the hell were they? 

Where was Dev? For the first time he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be alone, that Dev was supposed to have jumped with him. His heart leapt unpleasantly into his mouth, had something happened to him? He was starting to feel queasy from the shock and the effects of the incessant noise when something made him look down. Dev was there, huddled on the ground, both arms around his head. He was naked, like a small child, curled up into a ball. Well, they were both naked if it came to that, everyone knew you couldn't wear clothes through a time jump! The few who had initially made the mistake of trying, had ended up in extreme pain, those who had survived the experience that is. It gave a whole new meaning to wearing your clothes "inside out." 

That reminded him. He looked around for the box which had been sent through just ahead of them, containing their clothes and the equipment they would need for the trip. He couldn't see it anywhere, all he could see was a small cube about thirty centimetres high over to the right, nothing that resembled the metre square box they had packed only hours, centuries, before. 

He bent down to touch Dev on the shoulder. "We're here!" he shouted. Wherever 'here' was. "Can you get up? Are you hurt?" 

Dev opened one blue eye and stared up at him in terror. The relief on his face when he saw Jak standing there would have had the other man laughing, if there had been anything remotely funny to laugh at. Dev scrambled untidily to his feet and flung himself into Jak's arms. 

Eew! What had Dev been lying on? He was covered in black muck, all down the side which had been on the floor. Tactfully, he tried to hold him at arms' length. Unwilling to be prised off completely , Dev clung to one arm, following him over to the small cube. It certainly looked like the box they had packed, if only it had been the right size.  

A movement caught out of the corner of his eye, had Jak spinning around. What was that? His head tilted back on his neck as he stared up higher and higher until he could see what, or rather who, was coming towards them between the machines. His mouth dropped open for a split second before he grabbed Dev with one hand, scooped up the cube in his other arm and dragged them both into a narrow passageway to his right. He kept running until the passage turned into a tunnel and they were able to disappear from sight. They kept running, until they ran into a wall which hit them full in the face. 

Picking themselves up, they tapped and prodded the wall in front of them. It had felt hard enough at the moment of impact, but it wasn't made of brick or they would have had broken noses. That was weird, thought Jak, it felt almost like some sort of stiff paper, covered in a slightly sticky black substance. He pushed gently at one side and felt it give slightly. Calling on Dev to help, they both pushed harder and it gave way, opening up like a door. Cautiously, they peered around the corner. 

The shock was enough to send them back into the tunnel, wide eyed and panting. They stared at each other in the gloom, unable to believe what they had just seen.  

Someone, somewhere had fucked up big time! 

XXX 

Jeremiah Marten stared morosely at the last piece of leather remaining in his shop. His shoulders slumped, no matter which way he looked at it there was only enough leather there for one pair of shoes, and small ones at that. For one wild moment he considered giving up, leaving everything on the table untouched and walking out into the night. The river was close by, one step and it would all be over. 

He sighed, he couldn't be that selfish. Upstairs, his wife of twenty years was trying to make the last cup of dried peas stretch into a tasty porridge for supper. He couldn't leave her to face the workhouse alone. Wearily he picked up the piece of leather in one hand and the scissors in the other. He would cut out the pattern tonight and leave it all ready for the morning. Perhaps he would feel better after a good night's sleep and in any case, he needed better light for the fine stitching required to complete the shoes. The faint glow provided by the stub of tallow candle was barely enough to see his hands, luckily he had done this so many times he really didn't need to see what he was doing anymore. Stitching was different though. 

Eventually the task was finished and he pinched out the candle, finding his way up the narrow stairs in the dark by feel alone. His stomach growled, he hoped supper was ready. Maybe things would look better in the morning. 

XXX  

Jak and Dev poked their heads around the corner again. This time it was pitch dark and they couldn't see anything. Jak scrambled around in the passage until he located the cube which he had dropped when they hit the wall, now certain it belonged to them, whatever its size. His questing fingers touched the tiny keypad on the top. It was definitely theirs. The cube opened and they felt inside to find their utility belts - they needed light as a priority and then their clothes.  

Dek found his belt first and turned on his light. The two men looked at each other in dismay, everything had shrunk. The clothes were at least two sizes too small, the belts barely large enough to wrap around their upper arms, let alone their waists. Worst of all, the Rivetter-500 they had brought as a present for their unknown host looked like a child's toy. Instead of fastening steel plates in nearly seamless symmetry, they would be lucky if it fastened two pieces of antique paper together. Of course it shouldn't really have been a surprise, not considering the size of the cube, but the reality hadn't sunk in until they saw it all spread out in front of them. After all, they were historians, not scientists, thought Jak defensively. 

At least it was quieter in here, much quieter. This would be a far better place to stay for the duration than the vision of hell behind them. By mutual agreement, they left everything in the passage and crept out into the room on the other side. Jak carefully pushed the paper door back against the wall but left a small gap so that it would be easy for them to open and escape if they needed to.  

They gazed around, wide eyed, the light from their belts throwing vast shadows. A huge chair rose up from the floor in front of them and they realised the roughly carved column next to it was the leg of a table. It was just like the giant's room at the D'snyl'nd amusement park, thought Jak. 

The cube wasn't the only thing that had shrunk in the journey. 

"There's no way we can make ourselves known to whoever lives here," he whispered to Dev. "Anyone would take one look at us and reach for the broom." 

It was bitterly disappointing. They had both prepared so hard for this trip, learning about the language that would have been spoken, the customs and most of all, the objects they had expected to find here. It was supposed to be 'The Golden Age of Steam'. They had studied all the information they could find, Dev had even been granted access to one of the original texts of the period, "The Difference Engine." Unfortunately large portions were missing but it had been more than enough to whet their appetites. 

Despite all the preparations, they were well aware they couldn't expect to pass themselves off as Victorian Londoners. They had been hoping to introduce themselves as foreign scholars, interested in studying the processes of the factory they were supposed to have arrived in. The Rivetter-500 had been intended as a gift to the factory owner, a present for his hospitality and a promise of what the future might hold. Now all those hopes and aspirations had disappeared in a puff of steam.  

Judging by the size of the man they had seen coming towards them in the factory, they were now less than thirty centimetres high, their cube obviously much smaller than their first guess. All the preparation in the world wasn't going to make them blend in anywhere. 

Jak wondered how long they would have to hide here. The original plan had been for them to stay a week, but evidently something major had gone wrong with the time travel machine. It was possible their return trip could be delayed, or even brought forward. There was no way of telling. 

"We might as well have a look around while we are here," Dev echoed his thoughts. 

They were able to reach the top of the chair by Dev climbing on Jak's shoulders and heaving himself up. From there it was another quick lift to the top of the table. They marvelled at the primitive tools, thrilled, despite their anxiety, that they were actually in the presence of real scissors and ... could that metal rod be a 'needle'? It took them more than a few minutes to work out what the pieces of material were for. Modern shoes were all in one piece, often part of the whole garment. 

It was Dev who had the bright idea. "Do you think the Rivetter-500 would work on his material? We can't help the factory owner but perhaps we could help this man. What do you think?" 

"Brilliant idea Dev!" Dev flushed slightly, it wasn't often that Jak praised him. 

Dev opened up his tiny portable Kandl and searched through the historical encyclopaedia he had carefully downloaded before they left. Sure enough there was the entry, under 'shoemaking, history of'. They had to scramble down again to bring up the Rivetter-500 but it wasn't long before they had everything ready and set to go. This was actually quite fun, thought Jak, as he fed the material through to Dev who was operating the Rivetter. Perhaps he could take this up as a hobby when they got home. 

It seemed no time at all before they had a perfectly turned out pair of shoes in front of them, just like the picture on the Kandl. Suddenly they heard creaking sounds from upstairs. Time to go. They packed everything up and were safely back in the passage before the cobbler had finished his cup of gruel for breakfast and made his way downstairs to the workroom. 

XXX 

Jeremiah Marten stared at the finished shoes in disbelief. 

"Cor blimey! Who's done this then?" 

He peered around the shop as if expecting to see the perpetrator suddenly appear. Finding no-one, he gingerly picked up the shoes, one in each hand, turning them over and over to examine them. 

"Well then! Who'd a thought?" This was excellent work, better even than he could have done himself. Smiling, he placed the shoes right in the centre of his shop window. Jeremiah Marten wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, no sir! 

That very afternoon a customer came into the shop and bought the shoes. He liked them so much he paid more than usual, enough money for Jeremiah to buy two pieces of leather. That night, the cobbler sat at his worktable, cutting out the patterns, ready for the morning, what a piece of luck that had been. 

The next morning he was astonished to find two pairs of shoes, exquisitely made, side by side on his table. Once again, customers came in and paid him well for the shoes, enough that he was able to buy enough leather for four pairs this time. And so it went on for the rest of the week, until Jeremiah and his wife were thriving once again. 

Sunday evening, as he and his wife were sitting over the fire chatting together, he said to her, "I should like to sit up and watch tonight, that we may see who it is that comes and does my work for me." His other half liked the thought; so they left a light burning, and hid themselves in a corner of the room, behind a curtain that was hung up there, and watched what would happen. 

As soon as it was midnight, two tiny naked men appeared, climbing up onto the chair and then onto the table, carrying a small machine of some sort between them. The cobbler and his wife stared in astonishment, hands over their mouths, as the little men set to work, running the pieces of leather through the machine until one hundred and twenty eight pairs of shoes covered the table, some tipping off onto the floor. Then as soon as they were done, they disappeared again through the wall, taking their machine with them. 

The cobbler turned to his wife, "Cor! A couple of mandrakes!" 

"Surely not, my love," replied his wife, misunderstanding. "They are Elves, I'm certain of it." 

"Indeed my dear, you have the right of it," the cobbler agreed hastily. 

That night they were scarcely able to sleep for amazement. 

The next day, the wife said, "These little elves have made us rich, and we ought to be thankful to them, and do them a good turn if we can. I am quite sorry to see them run about as they do; and indeed it is not very decent, for they have nothing upon their backs to keep off the cold. I'll tell you what, I will make each of them a shirt, and a coat and waistcoat, and a pair of pantaloons into the bargain; and do you make each of them a little pair of shoes." 

Jeremiah was very happy to agree and they set to work, making the small items. The very next night, they laid them out on the table instead of the leather, and went and hid to see what would happen. Around midnight, in came the elves from the hole in the wall, carrying their little machine, and climbed up again to the table. When they saw the clothes lying for them, they laughed and chuckled, and seemed mightily delighted. 

XXX 

"Are we really going to have to make two hundred and fifty six pairs of shoes tonight?" grumbled Dek, heaving the Rivetter-500 up onto the tabletop. 

"What the fuck is this?" exclaimed Jak, as he stood up on the table and saw all the little garments neatly laid out. He spun around the room, looking for signs of danger, was someone watching them even now? 

"I think it's a thank-you present, Jak," Dev reprimanded gently. 

"Well we can't possibly wear any of them! The Institute could bring us home at any minute." Jak stared in horror at the coat and trousers, imagining what could happen to them if they were wearing these tiny clothes and grew back to normal size. 

As if his very thoughts had conjured up the action, both of them felt a millisecond's tingle, and they both vanished into thin air, drawn back into the 25th century with no more warning than that, leaving the Rivetter-500 and everything else behind. 

Jeremiah kept the tiny machine on the mantelpiece in pride of place for his whole life, even making a special bequest of it to his son Doc when he died.