Steven Harper - The Havoc Machine

Despite the the fact that Thad was sure Mr. Griffin himself was not on the train, he was still careful to slide the lock free without banging it about or making other noise. From another pocket he took a tiny tin flask of machine oil, which he applied to the lid’s hinges so they wouldn’t squeak. Cold dread and feverish anticipation shoved at him, made him want to hurry, hurry, hurry. The performance would end any moment and the train would start up. A guard or sentry machine he had overlooked might take notice. The cold autumn air bit through his clothing. Every fiber in him told him to finish this and run. But he made himself continue with slow, aching caution. He lifted the vent lid just a crack, enough so he could crouch over it and peer inside. A puff of warm, humid air escaped, bringing with it a strange, sweet smell that was also chemical.

The dim light and narrow crack made it hard to see much. A maze of copper pipes ran in all directions. Something went bloop . Liquid gushed. Machinery whirred and clattered. Claws skritched in the shadows, and Thad realized that spiders crawled everywhere. They swarmed the floor. They crawled along the pipes. They clung to the walls. Many of them carried small objects or tools that Thad couldn’t identify. In the center of the boxcar stood a glass dome with pipes and wires connected to it. Thad couldn’t get a good look from this vantage point. He widened the crack a hair to see better.

A cold hand grabbed his wrist. Thad dropped the lid and twisted like a cat, a knife already in his hand. Sofiya stood behind him on the roof. Her scarlet cloak fluttered in the wind. His heart pounded hard enough to break his ribs. God-how had she crept up without him noticing?

“What are you doing?” she whispered harshly. “Leave! Now!”

He tried to pull his arm free, but her grip was surprisingly strong. “I’m trying to find out more about-”

“Now!” Her face was pale with terror. “He has eyes everywhere!”

Her fear was infectious. Thad’s earlier excitement drained away, leaving him felt nervous and cold. Sofiya yanked him away from the vent back to the ladder.

“The vent’s not locked. He might notice.”

Sofiya swore but released him. Thad crept back to the vent and slid the padlock back into the hasp. It made a quiet scraping sound. The click when it locked made him wince.

A loud whistle burst from the engine, and Thad jumped. The peasants must have decided to let the train go through and removed the bonfire. Everyone had climbed back on board and the train was getting ready to move. Thad turned to head back to Sofiya at the ladder.

A spider clung to the edge of the boxcar. It stared at Thad with cold, mechanical eyes. Sofiya saw it at the same time Thad did and she stifled a gasp. Thad’s knife was still in his hand. He threw. The knife spun through the air like a deadly little star-

— and flew past the spider into the fading evening light. The spider skittered sideways, then turned to scamper down the side of the boxcar.

A silent beam of red light flashed over Thad’s shoulder. It struck the spider, which burst into a thousand component parts. Thad spun. Sofiya held a small rounded pistol of glass and brass.

Go! she mouthed, and started down the ladder. Thad followed. When they reached the ground, the train whistled again and jerked forward.

“Dammit!” Thad grabbed Sofiya’s hand and together they ran toward the front of the train. Far ahead of them, the locomotive’s wheels spun, gained traction, and jerked the train forward again. The crowd of peasant men, now smiling, waved at the train. Thad ran past the animal cars and reached the passenger car, which was already gaining speed. He reached for the rail at the side of the car’s tiny staircase and missed as the car lurched forward.

“Faster!” Sofiya panted. “We can do it!”

But the train was speeding up. Still holding Sofiya’s hand, Thad lunged and missed again.

A smaller hand grabbed his. Nikolai was there, clinging like a monkey to the rail. Metal fingers bit painfully into Thad’s flesh, but he didn’t let go.

“Jump, Sofiya!” he shouted, and wrenched his other arm around to help her. Sofiya leaped, and how she avoided tangling herself in her skirts, Thad couldn’t imagine. She landed on the staircase beside Nikolai, still gripping Thad’s hand. Thad stumbled and fell. The train dragged him now, legs bumping over dirt and stones, past the staring peasant farmers. His shoulders were on fire and his hands felt torn in half, but Sofiya and Nikolai didn’t let go. They hauled him upright, and Thad managed just enough purchase for a small jump of his own. The others yanked, and he landed on top of them. Sofiya and Thad lay panting in a pile with Nikolai while the ground rushed by beneath them and the wheels clattered only inches away.

“Can you rise?” Sofiya shouted over the noise. “Only, I can barely breathe.”

Thad sorted himself out, got himself upright, and helped Sofiya and Nikolai to their feet. Sofiya shoved the pistol under her cloak. “I think my arms are longer,” Thad complained.

“Let’s go back inside,” Nikolai said. “That was scary.”

The mood in the passenger car was lighthearted, even a little jubilant, as the trio slipped into the back. The circus had managed one of its most difficult performances and passed. Dodd raised his cane and hat at the front. Thad, Sofiya, and Nikolai dropped into their seats at the rear, unnoticed.

“Well done, everyone!” he called. “It looks like our mysterious benefactor was right-everyone loves a circus. Especially the Kalakos Circus, the best circus in the whole damned world!”

This brought cheers and whistles.

“And,” Dodd continued, holding up a small sack, “Nathan has finished the accounting from Mr. Griffin, so I have the best present in the world-cash! Good silver rubles!”

More cheers, wilder this time.

“I’ll be coming down the aisles for each of you. Don’t spend it all at once.” Small laugh. “Assuming we aren’t stopped again, we should arrive in Saint Petersburg tomorrow afternoon at approximately one o’clock. We should also thank Thad Sharpe and our newest member Sofiya Ekk.” Dodd pointed to them with his cane. “They brought us Mr. Griffin, and without them, the circus would no longer exist.”

Everyone turned in their seats to look at Dodd. Mama Berloni and Piotr the strongman and the dark-haired Tortellis and all the other performers smiled and applauded and stamped their feet. The gesture caught Thad off guard. He smiled uncertainly, then remembered himself and stood up in the aisle so he could sweep into a bow. Then he held out a hand to bring Sofiya up so she could do the same.

“This is awful,” she said through unmoving lips. “They are so nice, and I feel like a traitor.”

“Just smile,” Thad replied the same way, and they sat.

The applause died away, and Dodd came down the aisle handing out money. Sofiya straightened her cloak. It had dirt and grease stains on it. Nikolai, still wrapped in rags and scarves on the seat next to Thad, picked up his book and opened it again.

“Now tell me what you were doing back there,” Sofiya said in a low voice.

“Are you my wife now?” Thad shot back.

“She’s the mama, you’re the papa.” Nikolai turned a page. “You have to do as she says.”

“Do I?” Thad said, nonplussed. “I thought it was the other way round.”

“Only in public,” Nikolai said. “In private, the papa listens to the mama.”

“You have some firm ideas about how a family should act,” Thad said.

“They are correct.” Nikolai’s brown eyes flickered up and down the page. One of his legs kicked at the seat. “You made me scared. I didn’t want you to be hurt or left behind.”