Steven Harper - The Havoc Machine

“Doom,” whispered Dante.

“He has lost many parts from his head,” Sofiya said. “Normally it would be impossible to repair him without replacements. But when I destroyed Mr. Griffin-”

Thad’s fingers went numb at this, and he let go her cloak. “You what?”

“It happened while you were on the island.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “That is a story for later. From his lair, I brought out…”

Realization stole over Thad. “That other Nikolai.”

“Mr. Griffin had already shut him down permanently. I couldn’t leave it-him-down there, so I brought him here.” She lit more lanterns from the first, and in a corner Thad could now see the stunted Nikolai, huddled and broken. It should have given him a turn, but instead all he felt was hope.

“You could use his parts to bring Nikolai back!” he exclaimed. “Why are you waiting? Do it!”

“It is complicated, Thad.” Sofiya sank to a stool. “In order to do so, I would have to go deeper into a fugue than I have ever gone. I don’t know if I would come out. I might go completely mad like those other clockworkers. Like Mr. Griffin was, in the end.”

He knelt beside her and took her hand. “I’ll be here with you. I won’t let you slide.”

“There’s more, and you need to decide, Thaddeus Sharpe.” She took a breath. “He lost many memory wheels. They make up his past, who he is. I remember much of what I saw in their placement when I repaired him last time, but I do not remember everything. In other words, the Nikolai who comes back may or may not be the Nikolai who died.”

Grief turned to disgust. Thad got up and turned his back. “No.”

Sofiya sat behind him without speaking.

“What’s the point, Sofiya? If Nikolai was truly alive and able to…to die, then he can’t be just a machine who can be reworked with a new set of memory wheels. And if he was always just a machine, then there’s no point in bringing him back at all.”

“Was he alive, Thad?” Sofiya asked softly.

“Yes!” Thad choked. “Yes, he was. And you can’t bring the living back from the dead. He wouldn’t be the same person. He wouldn’t be Nikolai.”

“Do you have a sword in your throat even now?” Sofiya said. “Must everything be divided into right and left, black and white, this or that? You believed that all clockworkers were evil, but now I think you see that while some do evil things, others can do good, just like people. You believed clockworker inventions were untrustworthy, but you chose to keep one as your hand and treat another as your son.”

“This is life and death, Sofiya. We aren’t God.”

“God gave us the power to choose what to do.” She came round in front of him and took his hands again. “Nikolai is my little boy, too. I will swallow my fear like your swords and do my best to bring him back. But I will only do so if you wish it.”

Thad hung there between choices for a long moment. It was so easy to see the world as divided in half, black or white, this or that. Ever since David’s death, he had walked the dividing line between the two sides. If he worked hard enough, he could restore the balance between them, make up for David’s pain and loss.

He could make up for letting David down.

Thad had let the world taint that balance. He had done the bidding of one clockworker. He had befriended another. He had surrounded himself with automatons and called one of them his son. Now he was paying for it in pain.

But what had tending to the balance brought him in return? Had he been any happier killing clockworkers? It certainly hadn’t brought David back. Meanwhile, blurring the boundaries had brought him Nikolai, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, too. Whatever the chance, he had to take it. A father could only make one choice.

“Do it,” he said. “Please.”

It was the longest night of Thad’s life. Sofiya stormed about the Black Tent in a rage, and her words were as terrible as her fists when Thad was too slow for her. He did manage to duck out to tell Dodd what was going on, and Mama Berloni brought hearty food and strong tea to keep Thad awake. Still, he felt himself sliding. Sofiya’s clockworker’s energy kept her going strong, but Thad was only human, and his body was already running out of power. Fatigue clouded his mind, and he made a mistake. A ringing slap from Sofiya sent him reeling.

Nathan’s strong arms wrapped around him. “You’re finished!” he barked, tossing Thad outside, where Dodd and Piotr the strongman caught him. To Thad’s astonishment, the rest of the circus had gathered round with torches and lanterns. Mama Berloni swaddled him in a blanket and shoved a buttered roll into his mouth. Mordovo gave him a flask of something bitter that almost instantly relieved most of his pains. The Tortellis had brought a cot and they pushed Thad onto it.

“I’ll take it from here,” Nathan said, and vanished inside the Black Tent, where Sofiya was still shouting and cursing.

“I’d better get in there, too,” Dodd said, and followed.

Thad blinked up at everyone, bewildered.

“Did you think you were the only one who cared about Nikolai?” Mama Berloni loomed over him with her huge arms folded. “Huh! We take care of family!”

“Sleep,” Mordovo intoned. “We’ll keep watch and wake you when there’s news. Sleep!”

“I shouldn’t…” Thad muttered.

Moments later, a hand shook him awake. He sat up on the cot, confused and befuddled. Dodd, disheveled and with a swollen cheek, was bending over him. The sky was lightening and the air was cold. Every muscle ached. Where the hell was-

Memory slammed through him, and he shot to his feet, ignoring the scream from his sore body. The circus folk were sitting or standing in small groups, still waiting.

“What happened?” Thad demanded. “How is he?”

“Sofiya’s out of her fugue,” Dodd said. “Nikolai hasn’t woken up yet, but she said you should come in.”

Thad climbed into the boxcar, heart jumping about like a frightened hare. The Black Tent’s interior blazed with lanterns. Sofiya, her hair wild and her cloak thrown back, was standing by the worktable. Nikolai lay on it. His head was completely repaired. He was even dressed. Underneath, covered by the white sheet, were the small, sad remains of the other Nikolai. Dante bobbed up and down on the table. Astonished, Thad saw that the parrot was fully repaired as well. New feathers gleamed, and he had two good eyes. Thad automatically brought him to his shoulder.

“I believe there were periods when I had to wait for Nikolai’s wheels to align themselves,” Sofiya said. Her voice was hoarse. “I did not wish to do nothing.”

“Sharpe is sharp,” Dante said, and poked Thad’s ear with his cool beak.

For a moment Thad couldn’t speak. Then he said, “Well?”

“I believe I’ve restored Nikolai as best I can.” She leaned wearily against the worktable. “Now we merely…see.”

Thad noticed her hands looked strange. He picked one up and turned it over. Her fingers and palms were blistered and bleeding. She winced and sucked in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“A small penance,” she replied.

“Thank you.” He released her hand. “However this turns out, I want you to know that I’m grateful.”

Without further comment, she reached behind Nikolai’s ear with her bloodstained fingers and pressed the switch. During the interval that followed, Thad held his breath. He couldn’t bear it. He wanted to run off, do anything but watch, let someone else tell him how it turned out. But he stayed. Long, agonizing seconds ticked by. Nothing happened. More seconds. Still nothing.

“I failed,” Sofiya said at last. Her voice broke. “Oh God-I failed. I-”