Steven Harper - The Doomsday Vault

The train station was brightly lit to ward off plague zombies, and the schedule informed them that the next train to London would arrive in only a few minutes. Gavin and Alice sank gratefully to a bench to wait. It was nearly four in the morning, and a fair number of other people, ones with jobs in the city, were also waiting for the train so they could get to work. Kemp vanished and reappeared with their tickets and four bread rolls.

“I am sorry breakfast is so poor, Madam,” he said. “It was the best available.”

Alice handed two of the rolls to Gavin, who wolfed them down without hesitation. “Where did you get the money, Kemp?” she asked.

“Madam-previous Madam-has an account for tickets. I hope Madam will trust me about the rolls.”

Alice’s expression said that Madam didn’t, but Gavin touched her wrist, and she said nothing. The train’s arrival ended further conversation.

Gavin automatically moved toward one of the open-air boxes that made up third class, but Alice called out to him, “Mr. Ennock! Our car is over here!”

Trying to keep the awe off his face, Gavin followed Alice, Kemp, and Click into the first-class car. No other passengers were in evidence, and the two of them took up plush chairs facing each other across a carpeted floor. Gavin sank into the seat, feeling like a grubby imposter next to Alice’s cool grace.

The train jerked forward, and a bit later Kemp reappeared with a food seller wheeling a cart. Kemp folded tables down in front of Gavin and Alice, whisked a selection of bread, meat, and fruit from the cart, and set them on the tables while the dark city rushed past the windows. Alice ate immediately, but Gavin just looked down at his plate, his mouth watering at the smells of fresh bread, sausage, and boiled eggs.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Ennock?” Alice asked. “I can’t imagine you’re not hungry.”

“I’ve got no money,” he said, feeling his face flush.

“The meal is part of your ticket, sir,” Kemp put in.

So Gavin ate gratefully. It must be wonderful to be rich and the daughter of a baron. When he finished, he leaned back in the comfortable chair to close his eyes for just a moment, and then Alice was shaking him awake. The sun had just risen outside, and the train was stopped at a station.

“We’re in the city, Mr. Ennock.”

“Oh.” He yawned and got to his feet. “Uh… thanks. For rescuing me and for the food, I mean. I suppose I should be going.”

“Do you have a destination in mind?”

He shrugged. “Hyde Park, I guess. It looks like a fine day for busking.”

“What if someone tries to kidnap you again?”

“I have to play somewhere. That and flying are all I know, and no one will let me fly.”

Alice seemed to be warring with herself. At last, she said, “Come to my house, Mr. Ennock. You could meet my father.”

Gavin considered refusing. He was a street busker in dirty clothes, not someone who should meet a baron. On the other hand, the baron might reward the young man who had saved his daughter’s life. Besides, the idea of not seeing Alice again caused him a strange amount of pain. Every time he saw her disheveled hair, he wanted to reach out and stroke it back into place. Every time he saw her move, he wanted to follow after her. Every time he heard her voice, he wanted to sing along with it.

“That would be wonderful,” he said.

Alice hired a cab, and sometime later, they were pulling up to a shabby-looking row house. Kemp, who had been clinging to the back of the cab, hopped down.

“Is this Madam’s home?” he asked.

“It is,” Alice responded with overmuch cheer in her voice and a bit of color in her cheeks. Gavin caught on quickly. Either she’d been lying about the baron thing or they were poor regardless of the title, and Alice was embarrassed. He felt bad for her, but not too bad-it was a mansion compared to his family’s grimy flat in Boston, and a palace compared to the cellar he’d slept in until just lately.

Remembering his manners at the last moment, Gavin jumped down from the cab and held out a hand to help her out, then stood uncomfortably by while Alice paid the driver.

“If Madam will give me her key.” Kemp held out a hand for it, then hurried up the short steps to open the front door. Click swiped at Alice’s bedraggled skirts with a plaintive meow, and Alice picked him up. Just as she was bustling toward the short steps to the front door, two men emerged. Kemp stood back to the let them by. Both men were middle-aged and wore simple brown business suits and hats.

“Hello,” Alice said. “Who are you, please?”

“Are you the Baron’s daughter?” one of the men asked.

“I’m Alice Michaels, yes.”

“Ah. We just had a… business meeting with your father. It’s nothing you need concern yourself with, miss.”

“Is this about his”-she glanced at Gavin and lowered her voice, but Gavin still heard her-“debts?”

“It’s talk for men, miss,” said the second man.

“You’re from the debtors’ prison, aren’t you?” she said, her voice still low. “I’ve seen you sniffing round other people’s houses. You can’t imprison a baron for debts.”

“True, miss, true. But we can imprison a baron for a crime.”

“Crime?” Alice looked alarmed. “What kind of crime?”

“We’re in a public place, miss,” the first man said, “and this isn’t the sort of talk for a young lady to-”

Alice took a step toward him, a terrible look on her face, and the man actually backed up. “Tell me.”

“Er, theft and embezzlement, miss. He took money that didn’t belong to him and failed to return it, which, by a certain measure, is theft. We’re all aware that in the end the charges will probably not go anywhere, but Baron Michaels will have to spend the duration of the trial-many weeks-in prison, unless he can raise money for bail. And he will have to find money to pay a barrister.” The first man recovered himself and tipped his hat. “But all this is nothing you need worry your pretty little head over. Go on in and feed your cat, or wind it up or whatever you do. Is that cab available?”

Without further discussion, both men jumped into the hack and ordered the driver away. Alice, still holding Click, pursed her lips.

“Well. Father must be worried sick.” She hurried toward the steps, and Gavin followed uncertainly. “Last he knew, I was having luncheon with my fiance yesterday afternoon.”

It felt like a boot slammed into Gavin’s stomach. The entire world stopped, and he could feel every particle of air striking his skin like a barrage of tiny arrows. “Fiance?” he echoed.

“Yes.” Alice crossed the threshold while Kemp held the door. “Norbert Williamson asked me to marry him this afternoon. Yesterday afternoon. I’m still in shock.”

“I can understand that.” Gavin entered the little house, feeling stupid and a fool.

Don’t be an idiot , he told himself. You’ve just met her. And she’s the daughter of a baron. Why do you care if she’s engaged to someone who can probably pay her cab fare and buy her a castle with the change?

“Father?” Alice called, dumping Click on the floor. “Are you up?”

An affirmative response came from a back room, and an old man emerged, pushing the wheels of his chair with frantic, gnarled hands. He blinked at the roomful of people and automatons.

“Alice!” he said. He voice was tremulous with worry, and he sounded close to tears. “Thank God! I thought you had been attacked by zombies or worse. What happened to you? Who are-?”

“I’m so sorry, Father.” Alice knelt by his chair and took his arm. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t know things would turn out this way, or I would have sent a message.”