Steven Harper - The Havoc Machine

Thad watched every performance from the sidelines, feeling guilty and furiously exercising his hand. At night he dreamed he still had both hands, and when he awoke, it was always with a shock when he remembered his new state as a semi-cripple. Nikolai, dressed in his new clothes and only rarely wearing his scarf, clung to Thad with ferocious tenacity, becoming upset if Thad left his field of view for more than a few minutes. Although Nikolai didn’t sleep, he waited patiently in the wagon while Thad did, and Thad found it difficult to drop off with him standing there. Ignorant of the circumstances, the amused circus folk started calling him Thad’s little shadow.

“He is afraid the men will come for him again,” Sofiya said. “It is normal. Eventually he will feel more secure. David would have-”

“Don’t compare him to David,” Thad snapped. “He is nothing like David.” And he ignored the look in Nikolai’s all-too-human eyes, a look Thad could only describe as unhappy.

Sofiya, for her part, spent a great deal of time in seclusion in the Black Tent. She claimed she was practicing her act, whatever it was, and wouldn’t let even Nikolai watch. Only Nathan seemed to have any idea what it was, and he refused to speak of it. Thad knew it involved Kalvis, newly christened Kalvis the Mechanical Wonder, and he was certain that Sofiya would be performing acrobatics, but he couldn’t imagine the need for secrecy-or how Nathan had bullied Dodd into making Sofiya a centerpiece act for the tsar.

Dante also remained in the Black Tent, his gears still clogged with muck. Thad and Dodd didn’t have the expertise to repair him, and Sofiya promised to do so as soon as she had time, though she kept putting it off. It surprised Thad how much he missed the irritating little bird.

Thad spent some time trying to track down Mr. Griffin, though this activity was severely inhibited by the presence of Nikolai, who stubbornly refused to let Thad alone. It rendered Thad unable to make delicate enquiries or follow any leading information he might uncover. It was monstrously frustrating, knowing the clockworker responsible for his injury and for threatening Sofiya’s family was doing heaven-knew-what in Saint Petersburg. Thad was not only unable to do anything about it, but he wasn’t able to even ferret out any basic information. If Nikolai hadn’t been so ingenuous, Thad might have suspected that Mr. Griffin had somehow arranged for Nikolai to neutralize him in exactly this manner.

The circus, meanwhile, was caught in a delightful flurry of performance and rehearsal, with sold-out performances in the evening and frantic rehearsal in the morning and afternoon to create and perfect new acts for the tsar. Thad set up a target and threw knives at it. His right hand was perfectly good, of course, but his left was still unsteady. He could swallow knives and short blades that he would withdraw one-handed, but he didn’t dare swallow an entire sword or multiple knives, both of which required two steady hands. Swallowing even multiple knives wasn’t worthy of a royal performance, however, so, Thad was still relegated to the sidelines, a source of more frustration for him.

The day of the performance arrived. That morning, Dodd called a meeting for the entire cast in the Tilt. He went over the schedule of performers, then set the list aside with a serious look.

“You know how it is with royal performances,” he said. “The tsar and most of the court will be there, along with whatever other hangers-on can wriggle in. Most of them don’t much care about us. They care only about gaining the tsar’s favor. The tsar loves a circus, and if he enjoys our performance, Russian landowners-counts and dukes and barons and even generals-might see friendship with one of us as a route to the tsar. They will praise you and offer you presents and enticements. Accept the praise, but refuse everything else with polite thanks. Best is to pretend you don’t understand the language they’re speaking. We can’t afford to become involved in politics. Russia is extremely volatile right now. The peasants-serfs-are half in revolt. Taxes are at an all-time high. The landowners conscript men and boys into military service for life. And now rumors are running about that Tsar Alexander may set all serfs free.”

A ripple went through the performers. Beside Thad on the grandstand bench, Sofiya remained motionless as marble. He knew she must be thinking of her sister and her former village. Her sister wasn’t living as a serf anymore, but everyone she had known, childhood friends and trusted neighbors, still were.

“As you may imagine, this would have immense political ramifications,” Dodd continued. “Most of the landowners don’t care for the idea, to say the least. However, Alexander wants to bring Russia into more modern times, with a more modern economy, and serfdom isn’t part of such a plan. In any case, I’ve learned that many of the landowners are deeply in debt to the tsar or to the state banks. A great many of them have mortgaged their land-and their serfs-in order to keep up their lifestyles at court. If Alexander emancipates the serfs, the landowners might have to pay their mortgages off all at once, and they simply don’t have that kind of money. Or the tsar could forgive the debts, but that would mean the banks would be in trouble. You can see the mess, and understand why we need to steer clear of it.”

Thad glanced sidelong at Sofiya. For all the expression on her face, she might have been watching fish in an aquarium. He remembered her absolute composure when he had shot off his own hand in the wagon. Didn’t anything truly touch her?

Nikolai, for his part, sat very close to Thad. He sported his new clothes, but his scarf often slipped around his neck, and he didn’t wrap his metal hands at all. Another bag of metal scraps sat in his lap, and he crunched down bolts until Thad made him stop-the chewing noise was disconcertingly loud.

“You never know what might be driving anyone who talks to you,” Dodd said. “Assume the man-or woman-has an ulterior motive and act accordingly. We’re all experienced at dodging flatties. These are simply flatties with money. And, ladies, I don’t need to remind you that the men often see a circus as a traveling brothel, so don’t get caught alone. That advice might apply to some of the more attractive male persons among us. Ask Nathan who you are.”

A laugh went through the performers at that, and some of the tension that had been building eased. Still Sofiya did not react.

“All right then,” Dodd said. “Be in your places when the cannon fires at noon. Tsar or no tsar, we’re giving just another performance by the Kalakos Circus of Automatons and Other Wonders, the best circus in the whole damned world!”

The performers clapped, then rose to scatter. Sofiya nodded once at Thad and vanished out the exit flap before he could speak to her. Nikolai crunched a nail from his paper bag.

“Is the tsar scary?” he asked.

“I suppose he can be,” Thad told him. “He can make laws and order men thrown into prison or flogged.”

“Has he done?”

“I wouldn’t know. Though I’ve not heard of any king that didn’t do such things, so I suppose he has.”

“Would he do it to me?”

“No,” Thad replied absently, still staring at the exit where Sofiya had gone. “You’re an automaton. He’d have you melted down or the like.”

It was several moments before Thad realized Nikolai hadn’t answered. He looked down. The boy was staring at the ground. A little pang went through Thad’s stomach. How much an idiot was he? He knelt down in front of Nikolai.

“No, no,” he said. “The tsar won’t do any such thing.”

“I heard the Tsesarevich beat the clockworker and ordered his machines to pull him to pieces,” Nikolai whispered, eyes still down. “Mightn’t he order me to-”