Angel of Brass (15 page)

I hate this. Saints, I hate it!

The fire brigade finally arrived with sirens
screaming. As the octopoid’s massive shape pulled up in front of
the burning shop, the hoseman unfolded the eight hoses on their
brass arms, pointing them at various areas of the blaze. With a
creak and a groan, the roof gave way, sending up a huge shower of
sparks.

“No!
No!”

The despair in the shout caught Jin’s
attention, and to his horror he saw Singh running toward the blaze.
Jin bolted after the older man, catching him roughly by the arm and
pulling him to a stop. “Master Singh, don’t go any closer! You
could be killed!”

The flames reflected in Singh’s dark eyes, in
the tears streaming down his cheeks. “No,” he mumbled. “My shop. My
life’s work. My projects. Gone, all gone.”

Guilt sank claws deep into Jin’s chest. “I’m
sorry,” he said, overwhelmed by the inadequacy of the words.

Singh blinked slowly. “Molly...is she all
right?”

“She’s fine. But her friend, Liam, got
hurt.”

“Oh.” Singh looked around vaguely, as if
expecting them to appear in front of him. “How did it start, do you
know?”

Jin averted his gaze, unable to look at the
kindly old man whose shop he’d just burned to the ground. “I...I’m
not sure,” he mumbled. As it seemed that Singh was no longer on the
verge of hurling himself onto the flames in his grief, Jin said,
“I’m going to find Molly. I’m...I’m very sorry, Master Singh.”

Singh nodded and went back to staring at the
flames. Wretched with guilt, Jin made his way back to the edge of
the crowd. An ambulance had arrived; he saw the attendants loading
Liam into the back on a stretcher. One of the men climbed in with
the patient, while the other ran around to the front. A moment
later, the ambulance let out a great belch of steam from the boiler
and pulled away in a fanfare of yet more sirens.

Molly stood alone, watching it leave with a
frightened look on her face. When she saw him, she said, “They—they
seemed worried. Oh, Jin, I’m scared he isn’t going to make it!”

The tears streaming down her face broke his
heart. He held out his arms, and she collapsed against him, sobbing
into his shoulder. Feeling horribly inadequate, he stroked her
back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear, cradling her against
him. “I’m so sorry.”

“M-me, t-too,” she managed to say. Unable to
think of any other comfort to offer, Jin held her close, while her
hot tears soaked into his shirt.

Chapter 10

“How is he?” Jin asked, when Molly entered
the hospital waiting room.

Molly paused for a moment, while an automaton
nurse pushed a cart slowly past, then came to sit down by Jin.
“They think he’ll live, if infection doesn’t set in. They’ve
managed to save the arm so far, but the doctor I spoke with said
it’s likely that he’ll lose at least some of its use.”

Jin bowed his head. “Saints. I’m sorry to
hear that.”

“So am I.” She hesitated, not sure how to
broach the subject. “If the surgeon is right, he’ll never be able
to complete his course of study, not with only one working hand.
But maybe, after all this is over...if we share Dr. Malachi’s notes
with some of the professors at the institute, maybe they could make
him a prosthetic.”

“If some good can come out of all this, then
I’m in favor of it,” Jin said bleakly. “So, do you want to stay,
or...?”

“No.” Molly rubbed at her face. “I told the
doctors that I’d go to Liam’s flat and find his parents’ address so
we can let them know he’s been hurt. They live...I’m not even sure.
North of the Xatlian Empire proper, but I don’t remember where.
They let him come to school here so that he could learn about his
mother’s people, but I don’t know the names of any of his Eroevian
relatives.”

Jin rose to his feet and led the way out. It
was the early hours before dawn, and the streets were eerily
silent, broken only by the occasional wail of an ambulance. The
cold air bit even through her coat, and Molly pulled up the collar
with a shiver. Jin started to put an arm around her, then
hesitated.

“Maybe I should stay away from you,” he
said.

“What? Why?”

Jin shoved his hands into the pockets of his
trousers and hunched his shoulders. “This is all my fault,” he
said, staring at the monorail platform at the end of the street
instead of meeting her gaze. “You were kind enough to help me, and
look at what it’s brought you: Liam hurt, the shop destroyed. If I
hadn’t been so saints-damned selfish and come to you when I was
shot, none of this would have happened.”

Molly wished that her exhausted brain was up
to an eloquent argument. “You’re wrong, Jin. This is
not
your fault.”

“Then whose is it?”

“Dr. Malachi’s!” She put a hand to his upper
arm and squeezed, feeling the tension in the muscles. There were
metal bones beneath, she knew, but he felt warm and human to her,
no different from any other boy. “Jin, you can torment yourself
with this until the day you die, but you aren’t responsible for any
of it. Malachi chose to turn traitor; he chose to make the smiling
men and the shamblers. Of all his creations, you’re the only thing
that hasn’t turned into a horror.”

“And yet, I still manage to destroy
everything I touch.” He shook his head unhappily. “Maybe Liam is
right, and I’m no different from the smiling men or the shamblers,
in the end.”

“Stop it!” Annoyed, she punched him on the
arm. “I’m fine, aren’t I?”

“So far. Which is why I should get out of
your life now, before you get hurt.”

A panicked flutter started in her chest,
threatening to spread into the ache of loss. “Jin, no.” She took
his hands, as if she could physically restrain him from walking
away. “Please, don’t go. You’re my friend. I can’t...I don’t want
to lose you.”

For a long moment, he stared down at her. His
black eyes were depthless, drawing her in, and she felt her breath
catch a little. She wanted to smooth away the look of worry on his
face, wanted to press her lips to his and taste their softness.

Oh, saints, help me. I’m lost, aren’t I?

A small smile flitted across Jin’s face,
there and gone like a shooting star. “You’re my friend too, Molly.
The first I’ve ever had, in a way.”

“Then don’t push me away.”

“I won’t.” His fingers tightened slightly on
hers. “Malachi had a way of making me feel guilty, as if everything
was my fault. It’s a hard habit to break. I just keep thinking that
I should have been faster, smarter. I should have stopped the first
smiling man before it bit Liam, should have found some way of
destroying the second one without setting it on fire.”

A little shaky with relief, she said, “The
thing was about to bite my face off. You didn’t really have time to
come up with some elaborate plan. You used what you had, and you
saved my life. Again.”

He gave her a serious look. “I won’t let
anything happen to you, Molly, not if it’s in my power to stop it.
I swear.”

“I know.” Molly let go of his hands and
stepped back to a safer distance, swallowing against the sudden
tightness of her chest. “Let’s go over to Liam’s, then, so we can
get that letter written. After that...I suppose we’d best let
Winifred and Gibson know what’s going on.”

* * *

“I heard about the shop!” Winifred exclaimed,
flinging her arms around Molly almost as soon as they’d come
through the gates of Ellington House. “Saints, I was worried about
you!”

Molly hugged her back fiercely. “I’m fine.
Liam Two-Gears was hurt, though.”

Winifred pulled back, her face pale. “I’m
guessing this is something Gibson needs to hear, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Jin said unhappily.

Winifred kept hold of Molly with one arm and
reached out to take Jin’s hand with the other. “Gibson has some
information you need to hear, also,” she said gravely. “Things are
not going as well as we might want.”

They followed Winifred into the house. As
usual, Gibson awaited them in the study. “The resurrectionists were
gone,” he said, as he poured tea for everyone. “I assume that your
visit spooked them enough that they decided to change venues. They
even torched the house, no doubt to hide any evidence. My people
are sifting through the ashes, but there is little left, even for
those who know what to look for.”

Molly felt her heart settle somewhere in the
vicinity of her feet. Taking a sip of her tea, she said, “Smiling
men found us at the shop. The shamblers are flesh with a control
unit attached. The smiling men, it seems, are automata with a shell
of flesh wrapped around them. It was...terrible.”

Gibson’s mouth tightened. “Were you
followed?”

“I don’t think so,” Jin said. “I overheard
them talking in the alley. I think they had come back to the shop
because it was one of the only places they knew I’d been.”

Gibson nodded. “So they set fire to the
shop?”

“Not exactly.” Jin launched into a brief
description of the fight.

“At least no one was killed,” Winifred said,
when he was done. “But, Molly...I can’t help but worry about you.
Maybe you could go to a safe house, or even stay with us for a
time?” She glanced at Gibson as she said the last.

“I have classes tomorrow,” Molly
objected.

“Your life is more important than
school!”

Jin glanced uncertainly between the sisters.
“The captain wasn’t with the smiling men,” he said. “If I have to
guess, I’d say that most of Dr. Malachi’s...resources...were pulled
back for the move. As I said, these two were looking in places
where they knew I’d been. They didn’t have a chance to report back,
so there’s no reason for the captain or Dr. Malachi to think that
Molly has any ties to me.”

“We’ll keep on as we have been,” Molly said.
“Liam and I are working on the controller, and I know he’ll want to
stay with the project, once he gets out of the hospital.”

“All right,” Winifred said, sounding
frustrated. “But what about you, Jin? A safe house might be the
best option.”

“I go where Molly goes,” Jin said. “I’m not
leaving her unprotected.”

Winifred cast Molly a speculative glance,
which she ignored. “So, what next?” she asked.

Gibson tugged absently at the watch on his
cravat. “I have an idea. It’s a bit of a reach, I’ll be the first
to admit, but there’s no telling what might bear fruit. We can’t
move directly against the duke, but any lower-level conspirators
are fair game. Jin, you said that you saw several people come to
Dr. Malachi’s residence, is that correct?”

Jin nodded guardedly. “Yes.”

“Molly, I believe Winifred already spoke to
you about coming to the fȇte for Prince Five Jaguar?”

Molly, who hadn’t given the event a second
thought, blinked. “Er...yes?”

Winifred sighed. “Molly, you promised.”

“I forgot! I’ve been busy!” When her sister
continued to give her a long-suffering look, Molly decided the only
choice was to cast herself on Winifred’s mercy. “You know I hate
these things!”

Jin looked alarmed. “What are you talking
about?”

“A ball,” Winifred said. “Surely you’ve
attended one before, Jin?”

Jin blinked. “Er, no,” he said in a small
voice. “Dr. Malachi...we didn’t really socialize.”

To his credit, Gibson didn’t roll his eyes or
hide his face in his hands. Instead, he simply stated, “It will be
a very large event. Everyone who can get an invitation will be
there. Assuming that other conspirators are also highly placed,
chances are good they’ll come. It should be simplicity itself to
get Jin in. If he can circulate and look for familiar faces, it
will give us another angle from which to attack.”

Jin nodded. “Of course. Whatever it
takes.”

“Oh, good!” Winifred exclaimed, clasping her
hands together. “When shall we go shopping for dresses, Molly?”

Saint Velma of the divided skirt, what have I
myself gotten into?

Chapter 11

After class the next day, Molly and Jin went
to look at the remains of the shop. The experience was more
depressing that she’d expected. Little was left of the building but
scorched walls. A thick layer of ash and fallen brick covered the
interior, mixed in with lumps of metal melted into slag. A few of
Master Singh’s old projects had exploded, further adding to the
devastation. She poked around for a bit, looking for something to
salvage, but there was nothing to be found.

When she trudged back to the street, her
clothes covered in ash, Jin slipped an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” he said.

She dredged up a smile from somewhere. “Will
you stop saying that? This isn’t your fault.”

“Sorry.” He winced, but it drew a small laugh
from her.

“I wonder how Master Singh’s doing?” she said
as they stood and quietly surveyed the wreckage together. “His home
isn’t far. Maybe we should visit him.”

“I’ll stay outside, if that’s all right with
you,” Jin said. She gave him a questioning glance, and he shrugged
awkwardly. “I still feel guilty. I know, I know, but I can’t help
it. I’m the one who used the blowtorch, after all.”

She sighed, but knew that there was no point
in arguing further. “All right, you can stay outside.”

Molly led the way to the row house where
Master Singh lived. The brick façade was no different from the tall
buildings surrounding it, but someone had made an effort to perk up
the place with bright curtains in the windows and colorful pansies
in the planters out front. The tiny yard contained a small shed,
and Molly caught a glimpse of Master Singh’s beloved steam car
through the half-open doors.

While Jin loitered in the street, Molly went
up the stair and knocked on the door. Master Singh’s wife, Varuni,
answered. She looked tired, her face drawn, and Molly noted that
her normally immaculate sari was creased and wrinkled.