Steven Harper - The Havoc Machine

They reached the Nicholas Hall, a breathtaking two-story room of white marble trimmed with gold. Thad felt swallowed up in the enormity of it. The Tilt would have easily fit inside with space to spare. Twelve crystal chandeliers, each more than twenty feet tall, hung from the ceiling, which was inlaid with more gold. Balconies and windows ringed the upper half on one side, and the other side sported high windows that looked out on a courtyard. The parquet floor was covered with bare earth. A closer look revealed that great canvas sheets had been spread over the floor and covered with dirt both to protect the floor and ensure the animals and people wouldn’t slip. It must have taken days to arrange, and at enormous cost, for a performance that would last barely two hours. At the far end of the hall, looking tiny in the distance, was a low platform with two golden thrones. A small table between them had a large vase of red roses on it. Only one throne was occupied. The tsar was seated, awaiting their grand entrance. Thad took a deep breath as they started across the floor toward him. Tsar Alexander II ruled the largest kingdom in the world after the British Empire, but while Queen Victoria had to contend with a parliament, Alexander ruled with tight control. His merest word was law, and despite Thad’s reassuring words to Nikolai, he could have the entire circus beheaded, or beaten to death with whips, or driven into the North Sea and drowned, or anything else he might enjoy. He looked unassuming-a dark-haired man in his early forties with a mustache, large side whiskers, and a receding hairline over a blue military uniform looped with gold braid. His expression was as impassive as Sofiya’s.

Crowded around the platform was the court, men and women in their elaborate dress. They pointed and clapped as the troupe entered the hall. Little automatons flitted about with dainties just as they had during the execution of the clockworker, though more human servants were also in evidence. Thad didn’t see the Tsesarevich, Alexander’s heir, and for that, he was grateful, though on the floor in front of the platform on five smaller thrones were five children. The oldest was a boy of about fifteen, and the youngest was a child of three. The tsar’s other children, Thad assumed. He was glad to see them-it was always easier on everyone to perform when children were in the audience. The younger ones were laughing and clapping like the court, but the teenaged boy wore an expression of practiced boredom.

The automaton wheeled itself within speaking range of the throne, bowed creakily, and announced, “Your Imperial Majesty, allow me to present the Kalakos Circus of Automatons and Other Wonders!”

Dodd came forward now and bowed low. Behind him, everyone in the circus did the same, including the elephant and Kalvis. The tsar’s children were looking at Nikolai with wide eyes. Thad’s mouth was dry. A lot rode on this. If the tsar enjoyed the performance, the circus would reap instant popularity. Everyone, rich and poor, would clamor for tickets to see the show the tsar himself admired, and every performer would become famous. But if the tsar showed a moment’s boredom or even-and Thad’s chest went tight at the thought-actual dislike, the Kalakos wouldn’t be able to pay audiences to attend, in Russia or anywhere else. A king in Germany had once destroyed a composer’s reputation by giving a single yawn during a symphony. The Tsar of Russia could do far worse.

“By your Majesty’s leave,” Dodd said in rote Russian he had learned from Sofiya, “may we make a spectacle?”

There was a moment of silence. Tension filled the air. Every performer in the circus stood stock still. Thad didn’t breathe.

The tsar shifted on his throne. “You may,” he said.

Dodd blew a shrill note on a silver whistle. Instantly, the parade sprang into action. The wagons rumbled forward to create a barrier across the Nicholas Hall for the performers to hide behind. Mama Berloni and her daughter stretched a white sheet between two poles to make a changing area for some of the women. Roustabouts rushed forward with pieces of a ring and fitted them together like a jigsaw puzzle on the earthen floor. Meanwhile, everyone who had an act that could be examined up close rushed in among the court to entertain during the setting up. The clowns fell over one another. Mordovo plucked a variety of objects out of thin air. Tina McGee’s poodles leaped about at her command. The Stilgores strode carefully about on their stilts, bowing elaborately. Thad could see they were tense, but to an outsider’s eye, they were performing just as they always did. Sofiya led Kalvis back to the wagons. Thad wanted to watch the tsar for his reactions but he knew he should get out of the way, so he followed her with Nikolai.

“Are you going to let me in on your secret performance, then?” Thad asked. This was another nervous point for him.

“What fun would that be?” Sofiya stroked Kalvis’s nose. “But I think you are misnamed, my dear one. You are indeed.”

And that was all she would say.

The court seemed to enjoy the up-close performances. The tsar’s younger children giggled and liked being allowed to pet the poodles. No one approached the tsar himself, who remained on his throne and watched everything with an expressionless face. Thad became more and more uneasy. For someone who reportedly enjoyed a circus, he didn’t seem to having a good time. What if he yawned? Or worse, got up and left the hall? The thought made Thad dizzy.

Once everything was set up, including a portable trapeze and tightrope rig for the flyers, Dodd stepped into the ring and everyone else withdrew behind the wagons. All had gone well so far, but none of the tension had evaporated, and the performers remained grimly silent behind the wagons. Nikolai stuck close to Thad and peeked around the lion cage to watch.

“We begin with a new act created for the tsar himself,” Dodd announced. “Sofiya Ivanova Ekk!”

The calliope burst into song. Sofiya leaped aboard Kalvis and trotted out to the ring. Thad watched, heart pounding. This was an incredible risk. Sofiya was a first-timer. Her act was completely untried, and putting her as the opener before the tsar seemed foolish in the extreme. The grim faces on the other performers told him they felt much the same way. But Nathan had said only that the Kalakos Circus was known for its automatons, and they needed to open with an act that used one. Period. Thad prayed that Dodd-or Nathan, at any rate-knew what he was doing.

In the ring, Kalvis, with Sofiya on his back, knelt on his forelegs to the tsar, then reared on his hind legs and walked several steps forward. The court made appreciative noises. Sofiya herself stood up, lightly climbed to Kalvis’s head, and perched atop him, her feet braced on his nose and on his stiff mane. Nikolai gasped and Thad found he was biting a thumbnail. Sofiya swirled her cloak around her body like a scarlet flower. The court applauded, though the tsar had yet to react.

Kalvis dropped back to the ground. Sofiya rolled free of him and vaulted back onto his back. He spun in place, faster and faster, and Sofiya’s cloak furled outward in a pinwheel. Amazingly, she stood up again like a ballet dancer and, still spinning, leaped high into the air, her cloak and skirt still swirling about her. She came down just as Kalvis froze to let her land. The court clapped wildly. Thad did, too. Though he knew it was all possible because of Sofiya’s clockworker reflexes, it was still breathtaking to watch.

Next Sofiya flung her cloak aside and set Kalvis to cantering about the ring while she did many of the more usual riding tricks-hanging from the sides, bouncing from one side to the other, doing handstands on the horse’s back. Here the court began to lose interest; there was nothing particularly new or daring here. The tsar looked bored, and Thad tensed again. Sofiya brought Kalvis to a halt so he was sideways to the tsar. The calliope music changed, and she circled Kalvis three times. When she rapped smartly on his rump, a cunning trap door opened from his hindquarters. A drumroll began. While the court and the tsar stared, Sofiya reached inside and, with great flair, pulled out a long, slender box. Thad caught his breath as the box unfolded. Legs ending in tiny hooves extended down to the ground. A long head rose on a graceful neck. A tail rolled down from the back. In seconds, Sofiya was showing off a little brass colt that walked forward on unsteady legs. An amazed laugh burst inside Thad’s chest, and he had to fight to hold it in. Incredible! Nikolai clapped both his hands over his mouth to keep quiet.