Steven Harper - The Impossible Cube

“ Min!” she called. “Spaceeba!”

A hunting clockworker. The city had been so quiet, they had let their guard down. Alice’s heart pounded, and she was already moving, running straight toward the ridiculously sized ostrich, outraged beyond sensibility, her parasol raised. The amber head shone like liquid gold.

“Release him this instant!” she demanded.

“Stay back!” Gavin shouted.

The clockworker pulled a lever, and one bird wing fluttered downward. It caught Alice full across the chest and flung her backward. The air burst from her lungs. Red pain smashed her body and scored her arms as she tumbled over the pavement.

“Alice!” Gavin yelled from the cage. “Shit.”

Alice staggered to her feet as the bird started to turn away. The pain receded under anger and adrenaline as she scrambled upright, only barely managing not to tangle herself in her skirts. Her hat was gone, but she had kept her parasol. Before she could charge the bird again, from the alleyway darted half a dozen birds, smaller ones this time, perhaps twice the size of a cat. They swarmed about the larger bird’s feet, wings spread at Alice with menacing intent.

Gavin put one of his wristbands through the bars, aimed, and pressed a button. A gleaming gear shot from its magnetic release and spun toward the clockworker. She yipped and twisted out of the way with startling agility. Even a woman of her bulk came equipped with plague-enhanced reflexes. The gear pinged harmlessly off the bird’s metal back.

“What you do?” the woman called up to him in English. “Do not fight. I need the meat.”

The smaller birds clacked their beaks at Alice and scratched long runnels in the stones with their claws. Their eyes glowed red. The spider on Alice’s arm glowed back as if in answer. She gave the amber handle of the parasol a deft twist. It ratcheted twice, and a high-pitched whine shrilled in her ears. The parasol handle shone blue. The birds lowered their heads, ready to charge, and Alice slapped the handle. A bolt of electricity cracked from the tip of the parasol to the first bird. It froze in place. Sparks spat from its eyes and beak, and ozone tanged in the air. The bird fizzled with a smell of hot metal, but the electric arc was already jumping to the next bird, creating a wicked electric rainbow in the air. The second bird sparked and collapsed, and the power connected to the third, and the fourth. The arc of dreadful lightning poured from parasol to bird to bird to bird. Alice’s hair stood out like leaves on a wild bush. The lightning arced to the fifth and sixth birds. They crackled and spat and half melted, beaks open in silent screams. Then the electricity abruptly ended. The parasol went heavy in Alice’s hands, and the birds tipped to the pavement with six identical thuds. A line of smoke trickled from the end of the weapon, and Alice lowered it with shaky hands.

“Now,” she said firmly, “you will let him go.”

“Hodynnyk?” the clockworker said.

“Was that an insult?” Alice demanded.

“I think it means clock ,” Gavin said. He aimed with the wristband again and fired another cog. This one struck a lever on the clockworker’s control panel and moved it. The cage holding Gavin abruptly opened from the bottom like a claw being released. Gavin, ready for this, kept hold of one bar and swung himself around to the giant bird’s neck, whereupon he skimmed downward until he could safely drop to the ground. The move was magnificent to watch, and Alice couldn’t help admiring it, despite the recent fight.

“You are clockworkers,” the woman said, switching back to English. She clucked her tongue. “You might have said instead of destroying our little pets. There are ethics.”

“Sure,” Gavin said. “And you might have asked before you snatched me up.”

The woman shrugged and pointed to herself. “Ivana Gonta. We see you are from other country. Would you like chocolate?” A mechanical hand emerged from the control panel with a small foil box. It extended itself down to Alice, who took the box without thinking. “You take. Is very useful.”

“Thank you,” she said automatically.

“Is good, is good. Because you are new, we will not kill you for hunting in our part of town, all right?”

“Oh,” Alice said. “Er…”

“The Dnepro divides Kiev. The Gontas and Zalizniaks rule as one, but everyone knows we Gontas are superior, so the Gontas hunt on the much better right bank and the weaker Zalizniaks”-she spat-“have the left. You go hunt over there for when you need meat, not over here.”

“Right,” Gavin said. “Good advice. Thanks.”

“Is good, is good,” Ivana said again. “Circus is in town, you know. We have seen. Wonderful elephant. You must visit. Perhaps we will bring elephant to our house for private entertainment for important foreign guests.”

“Oh, we shouldn’t…,” Alice began.

“No, no, not you.” Ivana waved a gloved hand. “You are not important. We are only telling you because tomorrow night we are busy with guests and perhaps you can hunt then without that we kill you. You go now. Keep chocolate. Very good for luring children.”

The large bird turned and lumbered away into the city, its cage dangling open. The six little birds lay on the street like half-melted metal candles. Alice looked at the box in her hand, then abruptly tossed it away and scrubbed her hand against her skirt.

“That was very strange,” Gavin said absently.

“Do you truly think so?” Alice couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice.

“Definitely. Your parasol should have lasted much longer.” He took it from her and held it up to a streetlight with a critical air. The amber had turned black. “I’ll have to look at the design.”

“Gavin!”

“Eh? Oh! I’m sorry.” He handed her the parasol, straightened his clothes, adjusted the fiddle case, which was still fastened to his back, and went down on one knee. “Alice, Lady Michaels, will you marry-”

“Oh, good heavens!” Alice was all set to be angry, but she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a window that the ever-present light had turned into a mirror. The sight of her wild hair and disheveled clothing and smoking parasol brought out a burst of laughter instead. It overcame her, and she laughed and laughed. Some baroness she was. An image of her late father’s probable reaction to the entire situation popped into her mind, and for a moment, she understood why Gavin laughed so hard on that awful day in the ringmaster’s travel car. The ridiculousness of the entire world was pointed in her direction, and helpless laughter was the only response. She nearly bent double under the onslaught. Gavin scrambled upright and put his arm around her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Per-perfectly,” she gasped. “Good heavens. Will you marry me, indeed!” And she laughed some more while the gargoyles and dead metal birds overhead looked on. “You’re a true rogue, Gavin Ennock. I don’t know how I ever let you go before.”

Before Gavin could respond, a shot rang out from the direction Ivana Gonta’s bird had taken. A second shot followed. Alice’s laughter instantly ceased. Gavin’s eyes met hers with the same thought.

“Feng,” they both said.

“We shouldn’t have let him go off on his own,” Alice panted as they ran. “Foolish in the extreme. What were thinking?”

“Guilt later,” Gavin said. “Run now.”

The twisting, narrow streets remained eerily silent and empty-except for plague zombies. They seemed to be everywhere, rooting through garbage bins, lurking in doorways, shying away from the lights on the main streets. Male and female, adult and child, Gavin noticed enough to populate a small village, and those were only the ones he saw. He had never seen so many plague zombies in his life. Alice was noticing them too, he could tell. She flexed her gauntlet as they hurried on, itching to stop and help them, but they didn’t dare. Not now. They had to keep running.