Steven Harper - The Impossible Cube

Now enraged, Gavin tried to come to his feet, but his legs, chained for too many hours, gave way. Instead, he snatched up Click and threw. Click landed on Antoine’s head with a mechanical yowl. Antoine’s arm jerked. The pistol spoke, and thunder slammed the air as the yellow bolt tore through the top of one of the trees. Another window shattered.

“ROCAILLEUX,” the tree cursed. To a tree, anything rocky was bad.

Alice crashed through the bushes toward Antoine, who was still struggling with Click. Blood flowed from a dozen tiny cuts on the clockworker’s face and head. He finally managed to fling the cat aside and bring the pistol around on her.

“Alice!” Gavin’s heart wrenched with terror for her. Already he could envision the smoking hole in her chest.

Antoine’s finger tightened on the trigger. Without pausing in her stride, Alice swung the glittering cutlass and severed the power cable. It spat sparks and dropped to the ground like a dying electric snake. A magnificent move, and Gavin grinned. But instead of hesitating, Antoine swung the barrel of the pistol. It clipped Alice on the side of the head, and she stumbled.

“Pute!” Antoine snarled. “Do I care if I get a reward for her alive? No, I do not!”

Angered again, Gavin wrenched himself to his feet and rushed at Antoine, but the clockworker was ready, and stiff-armed Gavin in the chest. Antoine looked old, but he was actually young and strong and gifted with heightened reflexes by the disease that was also burning through his brain. Gavin possessed similar strength and reflexes, but he was still hobbled by his hours in shackles, and he staggered back.

Alice recovered herself, but instead of going for Antoine, she ran for one of the brass-limned trees. Antoine snatched up a set of huge hedge-trimming shears and flipped a switch. They chattered and chopped as he ran toward her, foam and spittle trailing from his mouth. Alice scrambled up the tree. Antoine swung the shears and gouged out a chunk of brass and bark just below her boot.

“ROCAILLEUX,” the tree said.

Knives and needles slashed Gavin’s sore muscles, but he ignored them and forced himself to move. He slammed into Antoine from behind, stopping the clockworker from swinging the shears again but not knocking him over. Instead, Antoine’s plague-enhanced reflexes allowed him to spin and jab at Gavin. The shears snapped at Gavin’s arm, and he barely yanked it out of the way. Air puffed past his fingers as the blades closed. He grabbed Antoine’s wrist and twisted, hoping to force him to drop the shears, but Antoine was stronger than he looked and Gavin’s stiff muscles continued to disobey him. Antoine slowly forced the shears back around until the blades were snapping at Gavin’s neck. A warm drop of saliva dribbled from Antoine’s mouth onto Gavin’s cheek.

“Will the boy pay?” he hissed. “He will!”

The tree Alice had climbed creaked and bent. “Gavin! Down!”

At Alice’s shout, Gavin relaxed and let himself fall. It never occurred to him not to. He dropped to the grass, leaving Antoine standing above him. One of the tree’s branches swung around at chest height. Gavin caught the surprise on Antoine’s face just before the tree swept him aside like a toy soldier knocked off a table.

“Hurry!” Alice called. “Climb up.”

Gavin struggled to his feet and jumped onto the lowered branch. Click followed, his claws digging into the bark and offering a clear advantage over Gavin, who had to cling as best he could while the branch hauled him up to the main trunk. Alice, surrounded by pedals, cranks, levers, and pulleys, was seated on a bench built into the wood. She spun one of the cranks, and the tree straightened again. Then she grabbed the front of Gavin’s shirt and pulled him down for a long kiss.

The world stopped for a moment. The pain in Gavin’s body receded, and Alice’s warm lips pressing against his own made him feel both safe and calm, even as they stole his very breath. He kissed her back, so thankful to see her that tears came to his eyes. They parted.

“That’s for being alive when I came to get you,” Alice said, then slapped him lightly on the cheek. “And that’s for getting captured and scaring me half to death in the first place.”

“I love you, too.” Gavin said. “Now, run! He’ll recover in a minute, and I’m not up for fighting him. I don’t suppose you brought Dr. Clef’s power gun.”

“Too heavy to carry down the rope, darling.” Alice held out an arm and whistled. The whirligig buzzed in and settled on her shoulder. Click took up a position on the bench beside her. “We’re safe for the moment anyway. These trees don’t move unless you tell them to. Do you want to drive? I never handled the original Tree back home.”

Below, Antoine had already regained his feet and was staggering toward the worktable.

“Antoine can control them from the ground,” Gavin said tersely. “Go! Go now!”

Alice didn’t hesitate or ask for further explanation, which was one of the many reasons Gavin loved her. She hauled ropes and yanked levers. The tree stomped forward on a bifurcated trunk that ended in balled roots. Antoine reached the worktable-and the control panel. Alice stomped another step forward, and another. She had nearly cleared the ring of mutated trees.

“Will I kill them?” Antoine screamed from the control panel. “Will I?”

“He’s losing his mind,” Gavin observed as Alice worked. “He’s not even answering his own questions.”

Antoine’s hands moved swiftly over the panel, flipping levers and twisting dials. A low-pitched hum throbbed through the earth and vibrated even the tree.

“FEUILLU,” said the tree.

“Is that French for leafy ?” Gavin asked.

“Yes,” Alice said. “He must like the vibrations. I find them most uncomfortable.”

“It’s a very low C,” said Gavin.

“You and your perfect pitch. Good heavens, how I missed you, darling.”

Antoine yanked a large lever, and all the other trees snapped to attention. “Destroy them!”

“Uh-oh,” Gavin said. “Can you move faster?”

“The tree is trying to follow Antoine’s orders instead of mine,” Alice replied grimly. “But I seem to be getting the hang of it.”

The tree picked up speed even as the other trees-four of them-turned as one and stomped in Alice’s wake. Alice, for her part, was guiding their own tree straight toward the perimeter of the glassy greenhouse. Gavin clung to the branch with white fingers. The noise was incredible. Heavy trees thudded across the ground like an army of gods, the vibrations that controlled the others throbbed in Gavin’s bones, and Antoine’s shrieks chased them faster than a flock of ravens.

“It’s still fighting me,” Alice shouted. Her arms and legs worked the controls in a blur. “It wants to do what the others are doing.”

“How are we going to get out of here?” Gavin called over the noise. “I don’t see a door.”

“Cover your eyes!” was all Alice said.

“ROCAILLEUX,” screamed the tree.

They hit the greenhouse wall. Glass exploded in a thousand directions, and Gavin lurched forward. His feet left the branch, and he was flying through the air. The tree hadn’t smashed completely through, and its top third was caught on the remains of the greenhouse. Gavin tumbled forward, but the clockwork plague suddenly took over. The universe slowed. Green leaves and glittering glass surrounded him like strange snowflakes. Just below him were the tree’s branches, and he was aware of the drag coefficient of the bark, which places would slow him down and by how much. He saw every bump and nub, every side branch and twig, and his brain instantly mapped out a route that would take him to safety. Behind him floated Alice, and he calculated the arc of her flight pattern as well, then readjusted his own route accordingly.