The Impossible Cube: A Novel of the Clockwork Empire (26 page)

“No idea, no idea,” Harry said. “Could be two, could be two hundred. And all of them made to specialize in instruments of war. I’ve said it before—it’s a pity they don’t turn their efforts toward a cure for the plague. They might have found one by now. At any rate, the place is a fortress guarded by bloodthirsty lunatics. I don’t like to say it, but I think your friend is gone. Gone.”

“No,” Gavin said. “Maybe not.”

“What are you thinking, darling?” Alice asked. The note of hope in her voice pulled Gavin’s spirits up and gave him more confidence. He set down the growing net of links.

“I think we need to go see Dr. Clef.”

Dr. Clef was working in the little laboratory aboard the
Lady
with Click watching intently from a perch on a high shelf. He looked up in surprise when Gavin slid the door open. Alice and Harry stood in the hallway behind him.

“Yes?” said Dr. Clef slowly. He was sitting on a high stool.

“I don’t have time for nice,” Gavin said. “I need my paradox generator back.”

Dr. Clef blinked at him. “Generator? What generator, my boy?”

“I know you didn’t destroy it like I asked you to,” Gavin continued. “It was too beautiful for me to destroy, so how could you do it? If I hadn’t been distracted at the time, I would have realized it earlier. Give it back. Now.”

“I don’t have it.” Dr. Clef’s expression remained perfectly ingenuous. “Honestly, I don’t.”

“Like I said,” Gavin told him, “no time for nice. So.” He reached up and took Click down from the high shelf. The clockwork cat looked at him with curious phosphorescent eyes until Gavin flipped him over and lightly depressed a switch on the underside of Click’s throat. Click froze.

“Gavin, what on earth?” Alice demanded.

“No!” Dr. Clef said.

“Hand over the generator, Doctor,” Gavin said, “or I’ll press it all the way. All the power in his spring will release at once, and he’ll shut down.”

Dr. Clef looked horrified. “Not my clicky kitty. Please!”

“The generator, Doctor.”

A torn expression crossed Dr. Clef’s face. He looked at Click and at Gavin, then flicked his gaze to a low storage cupboard. Alice edged around him and from the cupboard pulled the generator, complete with its crank and speaking trumpet.

“I’ll need the ear protectors, too,” Gavin said, and Alice snagged them from their hook. Dr. Clef appeared crestfallen, so Gavin handed Click to him. The cat recovered quickly and shook his head. Dr. Clef smoothed the creature’s wiry whiskers.

“You wouldn’t have done it,” Dr. Clef said, sounding like a recalcitrant child.

“It wouldn’t have hurt him, Doctor,” Alice said. “Though it would have taken an hour or more to wind him back up. And I might remind you that Click is
my
cat.”

“That is not how he feels.” Dr. Clef tickled Click under the chin. “No, he does
not
, he does
not.
”

“As you like.” Alice sighed. “We have to rescue Feng. Do you want to come?”

Dr. Clef looked genuinely puzzled. “Who is Feng?”

“Chinese man, little younger than me, so high,” Gavin said. “Likes the ladies. And the—”

“Gavin!” Alice interrupted.

“I do not remember him.” Dr. Clef cuddled Click. “Please leave me alone now.”

“If that’s what you want,” Gavin said. “Right now we have to collect Kemp and find Dodd.”

The first show of the day was just finishing up in the Tilt. A sell-out audience of all ages applauded and
cheered from crowded bleachers while the Mysterious Yins, clad in red, went through their routine in the ring. Gavin thought of Feng and tried not to feel sick. Maybe Ivana was just holding him for now and hadn’t started in on him yet. He tried not to think of Feng clamped to an operating table with Ivana Gonta looming over him, tools at the ready, but worry and guilt continued to gnaw at him. This was taking so
long
.

A roped-off section down in front kept a group of dignitaries and their families and attendant automaton servants separated from the rabble. Many of the men wore red military uniforms and carried wicked-looking dress swords, and the women wore rich dresses in bright blues and blood reds, with heavy brocaded skirts and fur jackets. Even the children were carefully outfitted. More than one little girl carried a clockwork doll. And then it slapped Gavin in the face. This was what had been bothering him since he had arrived in Kiev: These were the first children he had seen in public. In all the crowds he had seen in the city, every person had been an adult. No children walked with their parents, none played in streets or alleyways. Except for the wealthy ones Gavin had just noticed, none attended this very circus. The only children Gavin had seen were among the families Alice had cured and zombies on the night streets. He thought of Ivana Gonta and her chocolate. Did all of Kiev keep their children indoors?

Three Yins boosted high poles upright while three others leaped from one to the other with the agility of lemurs. The audience applauded again. Off to one side waited the clowns, ready to gently shoo the audience away once this act was done. Gavin, Alice, and Kemp
slipped behind the bleachers to the place where Dodd waited between acts and found him. He wore his usual red-and-white striped shirt and red top hat.

“He’s not going to like this,” Alice said in Gavin’s ear. “How are you going to persuade him to take a circus parade to the Gonta House?”

“The Gonta House?” Kemp said. “That would be dreadfully dangerous, Madam!”

“I don’t know how,” Gavin admitted. “I’m flying blind.”

Dodd saw them approaching and gave them a quizzical look.

“We need to talk,” Gavin said quietly. “I’m not—”

“Can it wait?” Dodd interrupted. “We’re all about to be very busy.”

“Busy?” Gavin said. The audience laughed at the antics of the youngest Yin. “I thought the show was almost over.”

“This arrived halfway through the second act.”

He showed Gavin a letter. In neat handwriting with a strange slant was written:

“Oh,” Gavin said.

“It came with a bag of money,” Dodd added. “Linda spouted some nonsense about the three of swords, but for that much money, I’ll face the hundred of swords. We leave in ten minutes.”

“Might Gavin and I ride the elephant?” asked Alice.

The elephant lumbered down the gritty, twisting streets at the head of another parade. Dodd, never one to give up the chance for publicity, insisted on a show. They had even installed a gaudy brass gondola atop the elephant. Normally Gavin would have enjoyed the experience—he was riding atop the elephant at the head of a parade with Alice next to him—but all he could think about was Feng.

Somewhat over a year ago, before the Third Ward, before the clockwork plague, before Alice, Gavin had been busking in London’s Hyde Park. A young man from the Orient—Feng—had rushed out of the fog and begged Gavin to help him. Gavin hid Feng and persuaded the young man’s pursuers that Feng had gone off in another direction. In gratitude, Feng gave Gavin the clockwork nightingale that re-created sounds. Much later, Gavin learned that Feng was the son of the Chinese ambassador to England and nephew of the emperor. When the ambassador discovered Gavin and Alice were fleeing to China, he asked them to take Feng along, since Feng clearly wasn’t suited to carry on his father’s career. Since none of them spoke a Chinese language, it seemed a good idea to bring him along. Besides, Gavin liked Feng. He was funny, and had a wistful air about him. It was only lately that he’d become surly, for reasons Gavin didn’t understand. Maybe something was bothering him, something more than just being housed among acrobats. He should have spoken up.

But did you ask?
Gavin thought.
Some friend you turned out to be.

“I still think this seems terribly fortuitous,” Alice complained. “Much too fortuitous.”

“Why can’t we have a piece of good luck for once?” Gavin countered, then added, “Don’t answer that. I agree with you, actually, though Ivana Gonta
did
say last night that she had guests to entertain and she wanted to see the elephant. It’s not that much of a coincidence. Maybe we actually
are
lucky. Those particles Charlie mentioned flipping at the same time to help us.”

“Hm,” was Alice’s only response.

He shifted the pack on his back and checked his wristbands for the fifth or sixth time. Alice’s parasol, newly repaired, gleamed as she waved it at the people crowding the sidewalk. A whistle dangled from a silver chain around her neck. Calliope music tootled behind them, drawing along stilt walkers, acrobats, horse acts, and animal cages. The parade scribbled a stream of bright colors through the gray city to the wide courtyard Gavin remembered from the previous night. By now it was noon, and Feng had been in Ivana Gonta’s clutches for twelve hours.

Hang on, Feng,
Gavin thought.
We’re coming.

The automaton guard flung the gates open and Alice guided the puffing elephant through. Its brass back was warm, almost hot, from the boilers contained inside it. Beyond the gate lay another wide courtyard, again all cobbles and stone. The blocky white mansion bent itself in a square C to make the courtyard. It reminded Gavin uncomfortably of a prison, and he remembered that the Gontas built the place at least partly in defense against the Zalizniaks across the river. An impressive set of steps rose up to a columned portico.
At the base of the steps looking out over the courtyard were a series of long tables all set with fine linen, gleaming silver, and faceted crystal. A crowd of people dressed even more richly than the dignitaries at the circus occupied benches and divans and chairs placed all about the tables, and they were laughing and talking. Food—roast pork and hams and birds and fruits and dumplings and potatoes and soups—crowded serving platters, and the mingled delicious smells made Gavin dizzy. His stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Automatons of many shapes bustled about. Human-shaped ones replaced food and refilled glasses of
kvas
and vodka. Spiders scampered about, cleaning up spills and delivering fresh napkins. Several clockwork cats similar to Click lounged among the dinner guests.

When the circus paraded through the gate, the dinner guests stared and pointed. A few clapped. Dodd trotted smartly to the forefront as Ivana Gonta emerged from the crowd to meet him. She wore a pink afternoon dress with a low neckline more suited to an indoor spring tea than an outdoor autumn banquet, but the chill in the air didn’t seem to bother her. A red haze settled over Gavin’s vision and he realized he was growling.

“If she’s up here,” Alice pointed out quietly, “it means she isn’t doing anything to Feng at the moment. Maybe she’s been busy arranging this little event and hasn’t had time to touch him.”

“I hope so,” Gavin said through clenched teeth. “For her sake.”

“We just need to wait until— Eep!” Alice whuffed
her parasol open and twirled it, effectively blocking Gavin’s view of the banqueters. “Don’t look.”

“At what?” Gavin’s muscles tensed. The calliope continued to play. Some of the clowns waved and made faces at the banqueters while they waited for a signal from Dodd to begin. “What’s wrong? I can’t see a thing.”

“On a count of three,” Alice murmured, face pale, “we’ll climb out the back of the gondola, slide off the elephant’s back, and sneak to the rear to get Kemp.”

“Why?” Gavin demanded in a whisper. “What is it?”

“Look, but do it quick. In the center, a little to the left. What would be Ivana Gonta’s right-hand place at her table.”

Gavin poked his head just high enough over the parasol to get a look, then dropped back down behind it and the gondola wall. “Shit,” he said. “Shit shit shit.”

Sitting at the place Alice had described were three familiar figures: Simon d’Arco, Glenda Teasdale, and Lieutenant Susan Phipps.

“Q
uick!” Gavin took Alice’s hand, and they slid down the elephant’s backside even as Dodd called forward the Great Mordovo, Magician Extraordinaire. The circus had spread throughout the courtyard, leaving a wide space in front in an impromptu ring. Gavin wove his way to the rear of the waiting performers, his heart in his mouth. Bonzini, the clown whose wig and nose Gavin had borrowed back in Luxembourg, gave him a quizzical look as the banqueters gave light applause to Mordovo’s first trick.

“Did she see us?” Alice asked. She clutched at the whistle hanging from its chain from around her neck.

“I doubt it. Phipps wouldn’t have let us get away if she had.”

At the back, near the closed gate, they found Kemp standing not far from the automaton guard in his guard house. He came forward when he saw Alice. The animal cages and other performers hid them from view. The people stood around, waiting quietly for
their turn. It wasn’t the entire circus, just the performers whose acts didn’t require much in the way of setup—clowns, the magician, acrobats, animal acts both living and mechanical, horse girls, and the calliope. The latter played bright, happy music, which had the effect of covering noise and conversation. The acts themselves were silent, anyway. No traveling circus depended on an audience being able to hear or understand the language.

“Madam,” Kemp said, “I don’t think I approve of—”

“I know,” Alice said, “but it’s necessary.” She faced the guard and gave the handle of her parasol a single turn. “You. I need to talk to you.”

The automaton took a single step forward. “Peasants are not allowed to—”

Alice touched its chest with the end of her parasol. Electricity crackled. The guard sputtered and sparked while energy coruscated up and down its body. Then it went stiff and tipped over with small crash. The lion tamer and his wife turned and stared. Alice put a finger to her lips while Gavin extracted a tool kit from his rucksack. The smell of oil and feel of metal brought a strange taste to his mouth, and he felt the clockwork fugue descending on him. Very little mattered now except the machines. In no time at all, he had the automaton’s head off. Alice turned back to Kemp.