The Affinity Bridge (42 page)

Newbury, powering on through adrenaline alone, scrambled up from the controls, frantically searching to ensure Veronica was unhurt. He found her draped over the back of the pilot’s chair, where she’d braced herself during the landing. He put a hand to her cheek, tenderly. “Come on. I hope you can swim?”

She nodded. “Help me with Chapman.”

Newbury looked down at the industrialist, still unconscious, even with the stirrings of river water beginning to lap at his upturned face. He nodded. “If we must.”

Groaning, he reached down and hooked an arm under Chapman’s shoulder. Veronica did the same, and together they hauled him towards the exit. The passageway was taking on water more quickly than either of them could have imagined, and by the time they reached the gondola’s main exit they found it was easier to swim, dragging Chapman along behind them. Thankfully, the door had buckled and sprung open during the landing, so it was a simple matter to navigate their way out of it one at a time, passing Chapman through between them. The river water was ice cold, and with the loss of blood Newbury was beginning to feel faint, his muscles starting to seize up. He kicked furiously, resolved that he wasn’t going to fail Veronica now, not when they were so close to safety.

The wind and rain were still pounding when he eventually got free of the airship. Linking arms with Veronica to form a platform for Chapman, they made for the riverbank as quickly as they could. It was only a matter of minutes before they were pulling themselves up onto the slick mud of the bank, hauling Chapman up behind them. They laid the industrialist out on his back, and Veronica leaned over him to check that he was still breathing. Newbury collapsed back into the mud, the rain pounding his face. Stars were dancing before: his eyes, and in the distance, out in the river, he could see the outline of the airship, drifting with the current and blown about by the wind. He heard the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. He didn’t bother to look round.

“My God, Newbury!” Bainbridge had little else to say. “Here, Miss Hobbes, take my coat.” Newbury heard her accept the garment gratefully. He looked up. Bainbridge was standing over him, his face partly obscured by the drizzly veil of precipitation.

Newbury grinned. “Come on, Charles! I think I could do with seeing a doctor.”

Everything went black.

_{Chapter Twenty-Nine}

Veronica’s feet crunched on the gravel as she made her way slowly up the path towards the asylum. The inclement weather had finally broken during the night, the wind and rain receding to leave behind a cold, dry morning that, Veronica considered, was far more typical of the season than the storm weather of the previous two days. She breathed in the fresh air, filling her lungs. It was crisp and filled with the promise of winter. Unconsciously, as if affected by the thought of the changing seasons, she pulled the collar of her thick overcoat up around her throat to stave off the chill. Her cheeks felt pinched with the cold.

Up ahead, Veronica could see that many of the asylum’s patients were out taking their exercise on the airing courts, small groups of them clustered around the grounds, sheltering beneath the spindly autumnal trees or else strolling round in concentric circles like caged animals searching for a means of escape. The nurses watched with beady eyes and tired expressions from their usual perch beneath the sheltered stone archway.

Veronica searched the scene as she walked, looking for signs of Amelia. Her sister was nowhere to be seen. She jammed her hands into her coat pockets and approached the main building.

As she brushed past the two nurses on guard duty, Veronica noticed a young man sitting on a wooden bench beside the asylum wall. He looked uncomfortable in his rough woollen clothes, and his face was ruddy with the cold. He was unshaven and unkempt—haggard, even—but for some reason he looked familiar to Veronica. She racked her brain but found she was unable to immediately place him. Perhaps it was just a case of over-familiarity; she may have seen him during a previous visit to the asylum and the sight of him had lodged itself somewhere in the back of her mind.

The man turned to look at her as she strolled past the end of his bench, and despite herself Veronica felt struck by the haunted look in his eyes. He smiled unconvincingly when he saw her looking, and then turned away, contemplating the gravel path as if it held all the secrets of the universe. Feeling a slight sense of unease, Veronica continued on her way, stopping once to glance over her shoulder at the young man. She had the vague sense that, somehow, there was more to him than immediately met the eye. Unsure what else to do, she tried to shake off the notion. She made her way under the archway, through the small courtyard on the other side, and entered the asylum through the main door, which the nurse on the door unbolted for her with a wary glance.

Once inside, she made her way to the reception desk a few feet to one side of the entrance. The nurse behind the desk looked cold in her thin uniform, and she shivered noticeably when Veronica came through the door, bringing with her a cold draught. Veronica cleared her throat. “I’m here to see my sister, Amelia Hobbes.”

The nurse smiled. “I’m afraid visiting hours have finished for the day. You may have noticed that the patients are currently engaged in their daily round of exercise outside.”

Veronica nodded. “Indeed. Although I fear my sister was not to be found in the grounds. I wonder,” she paused, trying on her best conspiratorial expression, “could you bend the rules just a little? I’m very anxious to ensure my sister is in good health.”

The nurse was about to answer when Veronica heard footsteps behind her, and looked round to see Dr. Mason approaching along the hallway. He smiled warmly as he drew up beside Veronica. “It’s alright, Nurse Willis, I think on this occasion we can make an exception.” He indicated for Veronica to walk with him, and they set off together along the corridor, their heels clicking loudly on the hard, white tiles.

“Thank you, Dr. Mason. It’s just that it’s been a few days since my last visit and I’m anxious to ensure my sister is well.”

The doctor offered Veronica a grave look. “I’m afraid you’ll find your sister in ill health, Miss Hobbes. The frequency of her episodes has increased markedly over the course of the last few days, with the most recent occurring just over an hour ago. Try not to show your concern when you see her. She’s looking very gaunt and tired.” They marched along the corridor for a moment, passing a number of empty wards and rooms on either side.

Veronica nodded. “Very well. I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me, Dr. Mason.”

The doctor smiled. “I only want what is best for your sister, Miss Hobbes, contrary to what you may have believed about my methods in the past.” He came to a halt before a door, which led off into a side room. It was painted a drab grey and had a small window set into it at about head height. Veronica peered inside. Amelia was sitting in a wheelchair in the small room, sunlight streaming in through the window. Beside her, a nurse sat in a folding chair, reading a book. Amelia’s face was turned away from the door, but Veronica could see immediately that her skin was a deathly white.

Dr. Mason pushed the door open and ushered Veronica through. Amelia looked up to see who had entered and the nurse trailed off her reading, smiling at the sight of the visitors. Amelia’s face lit up when she saw Veronica.

“Veronica! How lovely.” She looked up at Dr. Mason. Veronica tried to hide her dismay at the sight of her sister. “May we sit and talk, Dr. Mason?”

The doctor nodded. “Indeed. I believe some time with your sister will do you well, Amelia.” He beckoned to the nurse. “I shall return in a little while, and then it will be time for your rest.” He glanced at Veronica, and then turned away, holding the door open for the nurse to leave before him. The door swung shut behind them.

Veronica glanced around the room. The furnishings were sparse, but not unpleasant. It was obviously some sort of day room, a place for patients to come when they weren’t well enough to join the others on the airing courts outside. The very fact that Amelia was here, instead of enjoying the fresh air, did not bode well for her overall health. Veronica looked at the spine of the book that the nurse had placed on the coffee table. “Jane Austen, eh? I’d have thought the library here would be full of far more turgid fare than that!”

Amelia smiled. “Oh come here and give me a hug, sister! It’s so good to see you.”

Veronica did as she was bade, taking her sister gently in her arms and kissing her lightly on the cheek. She cupped Amelia’s face in her palms for a moment, looking her up and down, and then set about rearranging the blanket on her knees. Amelia slapped her away. “I’m not an invalid, Veronica!” She smiled. “At least, not yet.”

Veronica lowered herself into the chair beside her sister. “Oh, Amelia, what am I to do with you?”

Amelia shrugged. “I had thought I might be getting out of this dreadful place, but now I’m not so sure. The episodes have been getting more and more frequent, and Dr. Mason is clearly concerned for my health.” She laughed. “But then I suppose he’s told you all of that already, hasn’t he?”

Veronica nodded. She didn’t know what else to say. She searched Amelia’s face for a moment. “You were right, you know.”

“What about?”

“About everything.” Veronica sighed. “Everything you saw in your visions. It all came to pass. The airship crash. The automatons. ‘It’s all in their heads’, you said to me, over and over again. ‘It’s all in their heads’.” She shrugged. “It was, too.”

Amelia looked puzzled. “What
are
you going on about?”

“Your visions, of course. Don’t you remember?”

Amelia shook her head. She gazed at the floor. “We’ve talked about this before. I don’t remember most of what I see during my seizures.” She folded her hands on her knees, fidgeting awkwardly with her fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Veronica shook her head. “Don’t be.” She paused, her brow furrowed. “I’ve got to help you somehow, Amelia. I’m going to talk to Sir Maurice, see if we can’t find a better way to keep you well. There must be something we can do.”

Amelia looked up. “How is Sir Maurice? After your last visit I was concerned…”

Veronica smiled. “He’s fine. Well—he’s recovering. He had quite an ordeal, if truth be told. We all did.” Unconsciously Veronica turned her arm over on her lap and rubbed at her sore wrist. Amelia looked appalled.

“Veronica! Look at those bruises. Are you quite well? What the devil have you been up to?”

Veronica quickly covered her arm in the folds of her dress. “It’s nothing. I’m well enough, thanks to Sir Maurice, anyway. He saved my life.”

Amelia grinned. “Quite the hero, isn’t he? Do tell.”

Veronica blushed. “That’s quite enough of that. Now, tell me, are you getting enough to eat? You’re still so painfully thin.”