Steven Harper - The Doomsday Vault

As if in answer to these thoughts, bare feet slapped brick, and a ragged woman, accompanied by a young child, dragged out of an alley, reaching toward Gavin’s horse. Plague sores wept yellow fluid. In a mixture of fear and pity, Gavin tossed the apple from his pocket toward them. The child caught it, and Gavin urged his horse to greater speed.

He rounded the corner and let his horse drop into a trot as he entered the square that faced Norbert Williamson’s too-large house. He had never visited this place, but he knew exactly where it was. It took up one entire side of the square and was part of the dull, blocky architecture that made up so much of London. The mist was thickening again, a ghost trying to keep him out of the square. Heart beating fast, Gavin tied the horse to a hitching post out front, then dashed up a set of marble stairs to the double doors. He yanked the bellpull, and the door immediately opened.

“Sir?” said the mechanical footman.

Gavin handed it his card. “Tell Miss-tell your mistress that Agent Gavin Ennock of the Third Ward is here to see her.”

“Please come in, sir. I will see if the lady is receiving visitors.”

Gavin waited in the echoing foyer while the footman stalked away. He supposed someone of higher birth or position would have been shown to a seat and offered something to drink, but as a tradesman, he was forced to stand by the door, shifting from one foot to the other.

A woman came down the big main staircase ahead of him. For a delightful moment, he thought it was Alice, but he quickly realized this woman was much older and more curvaceous. She wore a dress of black bombazine and a rough straw hat, also black.

“Mr. Ennock?” she said as she descended. “Forgive the rudeness of the abrupt introduction. My name is Louisa Creek. I’m a good friend of Alice’s.”

“L.,” Gavin said.

“Yes.”

“Is Alice all right?” Gavin asked. “What’s going on? I got-that is, we got-a letter-”

“Yes,” Louisa interrupted. Her expression was grim. “But things have changed. Her father passed away moments after she posted it. She sent a servant with word to me, and I came right over. She’s not in any condition to receive visitors right now.”

“Oh.” Disappointment dashed cold water over him. Then he took a breath and said, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask-did she say anything about the Third Ward?”

“She did.” Louisa took a deep breath, as if she had to summon courage. “She asked me to tell you that she can’t take advantage of your offer now. There’s the funeral to arrange-very expensive, since he’s a baron-and she said she couldn’t possibly leave her dear, wealthy fiance now, though at least the idiotic elopement has been postponed. I may have embellished that a bit.”

“Right.” Gavin found he was twirling his cap around and around in his hands and made himself stop. He imagined Alice collapsed by her father’s bed, weeping while his corpse cooled in the sheets, and the image made him want to rush up the stone stairs to comfort her. “I suppose that means I should go.”

“I’m afraid so, Mr. Ennock, much as I would like you to stay.” Louisa reached out and ran a hand over Gavin’s shoulder. “Though perhaps I could offer you a ride home?”

“Uh. . I don’t. . I live at-”

“I didn’t mean to your home,” Louisa said.

Gavin felt his face turn hot and his feet seemed to grow overly large. “No, thanks. Just tell Alice-Miss Michaels-that I was here and she has my condolences.”

He fled the house before Louisa could respond. The fog drew its curtain across the mansion behind him as he climbed on the horse and rode sadly away.

The magnificent music lifted Gavin, transported him away. He leapt from cloud to cloud, chased lightning bolts, and spiraled upward across bright and brilliant air, then tiptoed and glided over stairs of delicate glass. For a moment, the music held him, hovering, then smashed into a storm, a whirling tornado that flung him up into an unbearable crescendo that held a long note and ended.

The conductor dropped his hands, and the audience burst into thunderous applause, snapping Gavin back to Earth. He almost felt the concert hall chair slap his back. On his left, Simon d’Arco clapped with enthusiasm, his hands muffled by white evening gloves. Gavin finally managed to applaud as well. The concert hall echoed with the noise. It swelled as the conductor turned and bowed twice, then faded as he left the stage and the houselights came up.

“Wonderful,” Simon said. All around them, people rustled to their feet. “And that was just the first one.”

“Yes,” Gavin said absently. “First.”

“Are you all right? You look distracted.”

Gavin shook his head to clear it. “The music. It was just so. . fantastic. Mozart always is. The Jupiter Symphony, especially. Let’s go up to the lobby and get something to drink.”

“Of course.”

They wandered up the aisle with the other concertgoers dressed in gowns and evening jackets. Gavin himself wore the black jacket and white tie Simon had insisted were required for anyone who held season tickets for the symphony. He had bought two tickets because no one ever bought just one and, besides, he wanted to be able to bring someone-all right, Alice-with him, but in her absence, a friend such as Simon would have to do.

“What’s so special about the Jupiter Symphony?” Simon asked as they threaded their way toward the exit.

“It’s hard to describe. The finale is the best movement. It’s as if Mozart held back all the resources of his science, and all the power, too, science and power that no one else has, and he made the music a release for both.”

Simon clapped Gavin on the shoulder and rubbed it, a familiar gesture he did often. “You’re a poetic man, Gavin Ennock. Let me buy you a drink.”

In the crowded lobby, Simon handed Gavin a glass of red wine. “I’m glad you decided to get out and about again, Gavin. Frankly, you’ve been moping around the Ward too much, and we’re all worried about you.”

“You are?” Gavin took a gulp from his glass.

“I know you have your cap set for Alice Michaels,” Simon went on, his voice low, “but she gave her final answer two weeks ago when her father died, and it isn’t healthy for you to keep on about her. There are a lot of other. . people who could make you a happy man, you know.”

Gavin stepped aside to let pass a group of women dressed in emerald. In their hats they wore small cards that read TRUE LADIES VOTE! Had he been that obvious? He was aware that Phipps knew about his feelings for Alice, but did the whole Ward know about them, too? He suddenly felt embarrassed and unhappy, and he missed Alice more than ever.

“Other people,” he repeated dully. “Like who?”

Simon took a deep breath. “Well, people like m-”

“Alice!” Gavin interrupted.

“What?” Simon asked, clearly flustered. “No, I didn’t mean her. I meant-”

“No, it’s Alice,” Gavin hissed. “Don’t look. I mean, don’t be obvious. I mean-shit.” He turned his back and drained his glass. Across the lobby strolled Alice on the arm of her damned fiance, Norbert Williamson. She was dressed in black from head to toe and her expression was neutral, even dull. Behind her came Kemp. His black and white paint had been freshly redone, and he fussed with the back of Alice’s dress. Norbert snapped something at him, and he stopped.

“I suppose this means she’s up to socializing again,” Simon said. He sounded disappointed.

“No point in hiding how I feel if everyone knows, right?” Gavin said. His voice cracked, to his mortification. “It kills me, Simon. It kills me seeing her with him. It kills me to think he’s with her every day and doesn’t know what he has, while I’m alone, you know?”