Steven Harper - The Doomsday Vault

Alice had no idea how Simon managed to negotiate traffic, but in very little time they arrived at the park. Hovering above it was the same little airship that had brought Alice and Gavin to Ward headquarters all those months ago. A short climb up a rope ladder brought her and Simon to the tiny bridge. Alice wasn’t surprised in the least to find Gavin at the helm. Her heart did a little skip at seeing him there, his strong hands on the wheel and his black leathers contrasting sharply with his white-blond hair. His blue eyes held hers for a moment.

“Miss Michaels,” he said.

“Mr. Ennock.” No , she told herself firmly. She was eloping with Norbert, and that was that.

“I’m here, too,” Glenda spoke up. Alice hadn’t even noticed her. “Simon, cast off. We’re out of time.”

The propellers whirred madly, and the airship swung round to the east. Below, people went about their business. Airships over London were nothing special. Alice did wonder what was going to happen to Simon’s horse.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Alice said aloud. “All my windup automatons ran off, including Click, and now you tell me that you received a. . a ‘tip’ about it?”

“An anonymous telegram.” Glenda opened a hatchway and started pulling equipment from the little hold below. She handed bits to Simon, who assembled the pieces. “We decided to act as if the information were good. So far, it has been. The telegram mentioned the war machine-that’s been a secret until now-and it mentioned your automatons getting involved.”

“How is that possible?”

Glenda shook her head. She was wearing trousers that clashed terribly with her woman’s white blouse. “We don’t know yet.”

The blocky city slid past below them, and the dirty gray scales of the Thames twisted across the landscape. Gavin was following its course. Up here, the air smelled cleaner, with no hint of coal smoke or manure. A flock of ravens tore through the air under the ship with their harsh caws and croaks. Perhaps two miles ahead glided a much larger dirigible, gray and slow as a pregnant whale.

“That’s our transport,” Glenda said, pointing. “They’re only lightly armed-weapons draw attention, and this was supposed to be a secret mission. We’re right over Greenwich, so if our informant has it right, the attack will come at any minute.”

“Why are we the only ones out here?” Alice demanded. “Where’s the rest of the Ward?”

“More agents are on the way,” Simon said, “but it takes a while to get from London to Greenwich on horseback, and this was the only dirigible available. Gavin, can’t this ship go any faster?”

“We’re too heavy,” he said. “I’ve been working on a ship design of my own, but-”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Glenda lifted a harness with folded batlike wings attached to it. “You’ll need to put this on, Alice.”

“Miss Michaels, please.” She eyed it dubiously. “What is it?”

“A glider.” Glenda spun Alice around and started buckling. The harness was heavy, but the weight was distributed well, so it also felt strangely light. “Think of a giant kite. When you lean left, you’ll turn left. Lean right to turn right. Raise your torso to climb. Lean forward to dive. Watch out for downdrafts. The bottle of compressed air on your back provides thrust. When the light on your control bar turns red, you’re nearly out, so come back immediately or you’ll be dependent on whatever the wind decides to do with you. It won’t be hard for someone of your intelligence to master it all.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” Alice nearly wailed.

“You know your windup machines better than anyone else.” Simon was shrugging into a glider harness of his own. “Stop them, defeat them, destroy them. Don’t you have a special code or switch to shut them down?”

“Each one has a switch, yes,” Alice said. “But they’re all custom-made, and each machine’s switch is in a different place, so-”

“Exactly why we need you,” Simon said.

“How many machines have you?” Glenda was now buckling Simon in.

“Twenty,” she said instantly. “Twenty-one, counting Click. But I can’t imagine Click would disobey me.”

“Of course not.” Glenda turned. “Simon, buckle me in. Miss Michaels, use those clips to fasten your skirts round your ankles and preserve your modesty while you’re in the air. Next time, I suggest trousers. And you’ll want these goggles to protect your eyes.”

Alice drew on the proffered eyewear. “Next time?”

The big ship was already looming large, perhaps two hundred yards away.

“Off we go, Simon.” Glenda caught up a fat pistol and leapt over the side. Alice gasped in automatic fear for her, but there was a hiss as the bottle on Glenda’s back came to life and the batlike wings snapped fully open with a whump . She caught the wind and glided away. Simon snatched a large pistol of his own and jumped after her to glide toward the larger ship, leaving Alice alone with Gavin on the tiny deck.

“Aren’t you coming, G-Mr. Ennock?” Alice asked.

Gavin’s mouth was set, and his fingers tightened on the helm. “I don’t fly that way. Pirates do. Come back if you need an air refill.”

She nodded in understanding. “Wish me luck, then.”

“Good luck, miss,” he said stonily.

His stiffness slapped her hard. “Are you angry at me, Mr. Ennock?”

“Nope. You’d better fly.”

“You are angry at me.”

“You made your choice. I’m happy for you. Marry him. Be well.”

Alice’s mouth fell open. “Does everyone know about that?”

“Anonymous telegram from someone named ‘L.’ ”

“I’ll murder her,” Alice muttered. “Listen, Mr. Ennock, I-”

“You’d better go,” Gavin said. “Look!”

A glittering line of tiny brass machines rushed toward the ship. Even at this distance, Alice recognized them as her own little automatons. Her jaw tightened in anger. These little ones belonged to her, and someone had stolen them. Yet she also wanted to talk to Gavin. He was correct in that she had made her choice, but she didn’t feel right in leaving him like this.

“I’ll be back,” she promised. She peered over the side at the dizzying drop to the Thames and the buildings lining it far below. What if the harness didn’t work? Then she saw the line of brass machines-her machines. Determination won out over fear, and she jumped.

There was a terrifying, sickening drop, and then the harness wings snapped open. Alice swooped upward. The bottle hissed on her back. She was flying! The sensation quite took her breath away. She leaned left and right, working out hand and foot motions that made her turn and dip just as Glenda said. It was easier than she’d thought. Bright air flowed all around her body, and even though she was supported by the harness and a bar, she felt like part of the sky. Her hair came free and streamed behind her. Queen Boadicea had nothing on this! It was freedom. It was independence. It was life. She whooped aloud, not caring who might hear, and sped toward the larger ship.

More than half her machines were whirligigs that could fly, and they were carrying spiders that couldn’t. On the deck of the large ship, the crewmen were watching, but were unable to do anything; their weapons weren’t accurate enough to hit such small targets. Simon and Glenda chased the whirligigs, but even laden with spiders, the little machines were far more agile than the gliders; the Ward agents had no more hope of catching them than hawks had of catching hummingbirds. Alice hung back, observing, trying to understand what the machines were attempting. Where was Click?

One of the whirligigs dashed up to the dirigible. Like most airships, it consisted of an enormous cigar-shaped envelope of hydrogen gas. The ship part was suspended from a rope rigging beneath it. The whirligig dropped a spider onto part of the rigging between the envelope and the main ship, and the spider extruded a blade. The rope snapped with a discordant twang. Then the spider leapt to another rope and cut that one. Another whirligig deposited its spider on another rope. Twang! The rope parted. Alice’s skin went cold as she realized what was going on. They would drop the ship and crack it open, freeing the war machine inside.