Steven Harper - The Doomsday Vault

“Oh!” Alice put a hand to her mouth. “In all the excitement-how could I have forgotten?”

She rushed outside. Gavin hurried after her. The late-evening air was damp and chilly, and night birds called. Tree formed a tall shadow at the edge of the river. Already Alice was climbing into the mechanical.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Miss Michaels!”

She dropped into the seat, her wet skirts sticking to her legs, and examined the machinery in the rapidly fading light. “Nothing’s labeled,” she muttered. “So how does it work?”

She pulled a lever, and the mechanical’s right arms swung down and around. Gavin ducked beneath it just in time. “Oh dear! Sorry, Mr. Ennock!”

“What in-?”

“If that’s right, then this one is left.” The mechanical’s left arm swung, but this time nowhere near Gavin. “And these are the feet.” The mechanical stomped in place. “This must be the bubb-” The glass dome snapped shut. Gavin retreated to a safe distance, watching Alice fiddle with the switches and levers inside the mechanical, until at last the front popped open and machine parts spilled out onto the grass. Of course! The machines Alice had been so hot to find. The bubble opened and Alice scrambled down to the ground, where she sorted frantically through the materials until she came up with three hatbox-sized automatons. These she stacked like firewood and struggled to pick up.

“Let me help with that,” Gavin volunteered.

“I’ll do it, Mr. Ennock,” she snapped. “Please leave them alone.”

He stepped back and let her haul them into the tower. She set them on the stone floor while he built a fire in the stove. His wet clothes were starting to chill him, and it would only get worse as the night wore on.

“Check that wardrobe over there, would you?” Gavin asked as he tried to coax larger flames. “See if Barton has any spare clothes.”

Barton did. Though a little large for Gavin, they would do for the moment. Alice obligingly turned her back while Gavin scrambled out of his wet things and into some of Barton’s dry ones. In the process, he found the silver nightingale still in his pocket, and he hoped it hadn’t been damaged. The dry clothes felt immensely better, in any case, though he was forced to remain barefoot. He held out a set of trousers and a shirt to Alice.

“You should put these on,” he said. “They aren’t women’s things, but you’ll catch your death in those wet skirts.”

“I couldn’t,” Alice said.

“You have to. I don’t want you catching a chill or pneumonia.”

“You don’t understand, Mr. Ennock,” Alice said. Her face flushed red in the firelight. “This dress requires assistance. I can’t reach the buttons and laces.”

“Really? Oh. Um. . I guess I could. .”

“No,” she said evenly, “you definitely could not.”

“I don’t mean anything. . you know.” He gestured helplessly. “I could just undo the buttons and turn away while you handle the rest.”

“Including the unmentionables?”

Now Gavin flushed. “Oh. Right. But you can’t stay wet all night. You’ll get sick.”

She sighed. “Hand me that knife, please, and turn your back.”

He obeyed, though he had to admit that the intriguing sounds of ripping cloth were a little exciting, and he forced himself to stare at a single block of stone, memorize its contours, and not think about the fact that the woman he had dreamed about for more than a year was standing half-naked-maybe even completely naked-only a yard behind him. His heart pounded faster than it had when Tree had fallen into the river.

“You may turn around now,” Alice said.

Gavin did. Alice looked strange in trousers, though she wore Barton’s shirt untucked, like a tunic, to create the illusion of a short dress. She had twisted her hair back up, and the firelight playing over her face and neck lent her warm brown eyes a glow that set Gavin’s heart racing again. She held a handful of tattered red blossoms.

“Great,” he said. “You look great. Where did the roses come from?”

“They were caught in among my things.”

“Even something damp and bedraggled can be pretty,” he said without thinking.

There was a pause, and Gavin flushed.

“I feel strange,” Alice said. Her dress lay in rags at her feet. “And immodest. Like an Ad Hoc lady.”

“Everything’s covered up,” he replied. “No one will know but me, and I’ll never tell, Miss Michaels.”

“I believe you.” She sighed, and a certain amount of tension seemed to leave her. “Thank you.”

Gavin recovered himself. “Let’s see if we can find any food. I’m starved.”

Barton had a stash of canned fruit and beans. While they were eating, the man started to come around, and Gavin forced some laudanum-laced water down his throat. He quieted quickly.

“Are you sure he’s not contagious?” Alice asked anxiously. They were sitting at a rough set of table and chairs pulled near the stove for warmth. The damp roses lay scattered on the table between them, scenting the air.

“Very sure,” Gavin said. “Clockworkers do something to the clockwork plague, or the clockwork plague does something to clockworkers. We don’t know how it works or why, but clockworkers don’t spread the disease. If they did, I’d be dead by now.”

“How many clockworkers have you encountered since you joined. . them?”

“The Third Ward?”

“I can’t talk about it directly. Your. . superior saw to that.”

“Right. Standard procedure.” Gavin moved beans around in the tin with his spoon. “I’ve encountered three or four, not counting the ones we keep at headquarters. And I work with Doctor Clef all the time.”

“What’s it like?” Alice leaned forward slightly, as if hungry for something other than beans and peaches.

He flashed a wide grin at her. “It’s scary as hell-sorry-but it’s also the greatest job I’ve ever had. I fly to new places and see new people all the time, and the inventions are incredible. Tree is the just the beginning.”

“Tell me about the inventions,” Alice said.

“Well, Professor K. is working on a way to grow a copy of a living creature from a bit of its flesh or blood. He’s done mice and sheep, but Lieutenant Phipps says if he manages humans, she’ll put his research into the Doomsday Vault. Master Prakash, a clockworker from India, is working on a camera that creates photographs instantly. His lab tends to explode at least once a week, so we have to be careful. And Doctor Clef is still working on his Impossible Cube. I also had him cook up more of that alloy that floats when you pump a current through it.”

“It sounds incredible.” Alice sighed. “I envy you, Mr. Ennock.”

“Then why did you say no when Phipps asked you to join?” Gavin blurted out. “We could even have been partners.”

For a moment, Gavin thought she might refuse to answer. Then she sighed again. “I couldn’t.”

“You worry a lot about couldn’t , Miss Michaels,” Gavin said.

“My father was tens of thousands of pounds in debt, Mr. Ennock, and after a lot of work, I managed to catch the eye of a wealthy man who was willing to marry me, despite my advanced age and lack of means. I was also afraid. .” She trailed off, flushing a little.

“Of what?”

“Er. . that I wasn’t suited to the job,” she finished lamely.

There was clearly more to it than that, but Gavin didn’t press the issue. In the spirit of being straightforward, he said, “Well, I wish you had joined. You’d be a hell-sorry-heck of a field agent. Besides,” he hurried to add before he could lose courage, “I miss you.”

She smiled tightly and patted his hand across the table. “Thank you, Mr. Ennock.”