Angel of Brass (19 page)

For what seemed like forever, Jin hunched
over Molly, listening to the crash of timber and brick. Eventually,
the building settled again, and only the hiss of steam sounded in
the dark.

He felt Molly shift underneath him, and
pushed himself up and off of her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“A few bruises where a piece of brick hit me,
but nothing worse.”

He heard her fumbling and muttering to
herself. “Don’t tell me I dropped...no, there it is.”

Light flicked on, and Molly pointed her
electric torch back the way they had come. Steam filled the air,
leaking from ruptured pipes and mingling with the dust rising from
the crumbled brick blocking the way back.

“I don’t hear the serpent anymore,” Molly
said shakily. “I think that got it.”

“I think you’re right.” Jin took a deep
breath. “That was close.”

“Yes.” Molly sighed and slumped, all the
tension going out of her.

“You were utterly brilliant, by the way.”

Molly ducked her head, and even in the poor
light he could see the blush on her cheeks. “I didn’t want to leave
the serpent loose so it could hurt someone else,” she mumbled,
taking off her spectacles and fumbling for a clean bit of cloth to
wipe them with. “This seemed like the best way. Anyone could have
done it.”

“No. I don’t think just anyone would have
come up with a plan that quickly. You really are amazing.”

She looked up at him. There was brick dust in
her hair and on her clothes, all of it slowly turning to a fine
layer of mud as steam filled the air. It covered her skin as well,
except where the spectacles had been, giving her the look of a
raccoon. Her skirt was torn, and there was a bloody scrape on the
knuckles of one hand.

Jin didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so
beautiful.

Her lips parted, and he found himself staring
at them, wondering what it would be like to kiss her. He started to
lean in, his heart pounding in his chest, but a loud groan from the
ceiling made them both jump back and look up nervously.

“We...we should get out of here,” she said,
sounding breathless. “The entire building might fall on our heads,
otherwise.”

“You’re right.” Jin rose to his feet and held
out his hand to help her up.

Once she was on her feet, she absently dusted
off her torn skirt, smearing mud everywhere. “This tunnel should
connect up with the hall of records next door. Hopefully, we can
get out through there before the torch dies.”

“Let’s hurry then, shall we?” Jin asked,
glancing uneasily at the ceiling.

Molly nodded. Taking his hand, she led him
deeper into the tunnels. Jin followed, uncertain whether or not he
should be grateful for the interruption.

Chapter 13

The next afternoon, Molly walked down the
street to Liam’s flat.

After escaping through the hall of records,
she and Jin had found the street full of police, fire brigades, and
ambulances. Several mechapedes lay in pieces, some of them still
wrapped around their foes. At least it seemed that, one way or the
other, all of the mechanical jaguars and serpents had been
destroyed. As there was nothing either of them could do to help,
they’d slipped away from the scene before anyone thought to
question them about the boiler explosion. Although Molly felt her
actions perfectly justified, she
had
blown up city hall,
after all.

She’d slept straight through her alarm and
her early classes. When she arrived at the institute three hours
late, it had been to discover that classes were cancelled anyway.
Apparently, a large number of students had decided to attend the
festival. Many of them now numbered among the dead.

The reminder sobered her as she climbed the
steps outside the flat. She wondered, a bit morbidly, who would be
missing from her classes when they resumed.
At least Liam stayed
home last night.

Jin answered the bell. Although he looked
exhausted, a smile warmed his face at the sight of her. “Good to
see you,” he said.

“You, too,” she replied, stepping inside so
that Jin could shut the door. “How are things here?”

Someone ringing the doorbell interrupted his
answer; whoever it was must have been practically on Molly’s heels.
Startled, they exchanged a confused glance. “Is Liam expecting any
visitors?”

“Not that I know of.”

Molly cautiously cracked the door and peered
outside. A chimney sweep stood on the stoop, his brush jauntily
resting on one shoulder and his soot bag at his feet. His skin and
clothing were so covered with soot that it was difficult to
determine their natural color. When he saw her, he swept into a
bow. “Afternoon, miss. I’m here to give the chimney its monthly
scrub.”

“Erm, we weren’t expecting you,” she said.
She glanced at Jin, who shrugged.

“Liam didn’t say anything, but...he’s not
feeling too well today.”

Worry for her friend touched her. “Perhaps
later,” she told the sweep. “There’s an invalid here, and it
probably isn’t a good idea to disturb him.”

“Oy, miss, no worries. I’ll be quiet as a
mouse,” the persistent sweep said. And gave her a sly wink.

Recognition at last clicked into place. With
a gasp, Molly opened the door wide to let him in.
“Gibson?”

Her brother-in-law grinned. “In the very
flesh,” he said in his normal accents, while Jin gaped in
amazement.

“I didn’t recognize you,” she admitted, still
staring at him. Now that she knew his identity, she couldn’t
believe that she hadn’t recognized him from the first moment. Other
than the soot, he’d done nothing to disguise his face.

Gibson continued to grin. “Don’t feel bad,”
he said. “The secret to a good disguise isn’t to alter one’s
personal appearance, but to distract the viewer. Why do you think I
wear that stupid watch on my cravat all the time? People look at it
instead of me. Similarly, when you see a chimney sweep, you see the
brush and the soot bag, and the dirty clothing. Your eye skips over
individual details because you already ‘know’ what you’re looking
at. Except when you don’t.”

Jin led the way from the entry hall into the
sitting room. “Liam’s upstairs, asleep,” he explained.

Gibson looked troubled. “You said he isn’t
doing well?”

“He was, at first. But when I got back in
last night, he was running a fever.”

Fear iced Molly’s veins. “Gangrene?”

“Not that I saw.” Jin spread his gloved hands
apart helplessly. “I changed the bandage this morning, and the
wound seemed fine. But he still has a fever, and he hasn’t eaten
yet today. He only wants to sleep.”

“I know a doctor who can take a look at him,”
Gibson said. “I trust him more than the butchers at the hospital.
I’ll make sure he drops by this afternoon.”

“Thank you.” Jin said, glancing up the stairs
in the direction of the bedroom. “I hate to think that Liam might
lose the arm, after he was doing so well.”

“So do I,” Molly said, taking Jin’s hand for
comfort. “But it may be the only way.”

Jin put on a brave smile. “I’m being a bad
host. Sorry—I’m not really in the habit. I just made a pot of tea,
if you’d like some.”

“Thank you,” Gibson said. He perched near the
hearth, presumably to keep from shedding soot on the furniture.
Molly sat down on the couch; after pouring tea for them all, Jin
settled by her.

“So, what brings you here?” Molly asked.
“Unless you moonlight as a chimney sweep when your other job gets
too tedious.”

Gibson smiled slightly. “I wish I could say
that I did. Unfortunately, I’m here on more serious business. I
assume you heard about the incident at the celebration last
night?”

“I wish that we’d only heard about it,” Molly
said with a shiver.

“You were present?”

“Almost at the foot of the temple,” Jin said,
taking a sip of his tea. “We ended up being chased by one of those
mechanical serpents. Molly destroyed it, though.”

Gibson leaned forward alertly. “How?”

Molly squirmed, wishing that Jin hadn’t said
anything. “I...er...well, we got it to chase us into city hall, you
see, and...things happened...”

Gibson held out one hand, stopping her. “I
don’t think I want to hear any more details. Only confirm for me
that city hall wasn’t blown up by the same people who unleashed the
mechanical creatures.”

“Er, no, it wasn’t.”

“That does simplify our investigation a bit,”
Gibson said. “Unfortunately, it still leaves the larger questions
unanswered. Perhaps you can help by telling me exactly what you
observed.”

They took turns relating everything they had
seen and heard, from the beginning of the parade, to the point
where they had to flee the mechanical serpent. When they were done,
Gibson looked as grim as Molly had ever seen him.

“So the automata made no move toward the
prince and his retinue?” he asked.

Molly and Jin exchanged a look. “No,” he said
slowly. “But I knew that the automata weren’t part of the show
because of the way that the priest and the guards reacted to them.
They were afraid.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps it was an act.”

Molly frowned, not liking the turn the
conversation seemed to be taking. “You think they were
involved?”

“I have yet to form any conclusions as to
their guilt or innocence,” Gibson said. “On the face of it, it
would make no sense for them to do such a thing. Equally, it would
make no sense for anarchists or anyone else to do such a thing. The
obvious goal for such a plot would have been to kill the prince,
but the only people injured were random festival-goers in the
crowd. Which suggests to me that there is still a piece missing
from the puzzle.” He drank down the rest of the tea from his cup
and set it aside. “However, logical or not, rumors started almost
immediately, claiming that the Xatlian prince orchestrated the
whole thing. The temple priests insist that someone must have
replaced the original clockwork creatures, which were only shells
with limited movement driven by a shaft within the temple itself.
The obvious response is that they are lying, and that the Xatlians
have been planning this moment for some time, and the machines were
always there and always autonomous. Not helping the problem is that
numerous witnesses claim to have seen the prince direct the
creatures to attack.”

“It was well-timed,” Molly said slowly, lost
in thought. “The prince had just used the lightning generator to
sacrifice the clockwork heart, which of course demanded a number of
rather theatrical gestures from him. It would only be natural for
people to link the two in their minds.”

“Precisely. Whoever did this, they were very
clever about the whole thing. If their goal was to sow discord
between Xatli and Eroe, it was well done. Indeed, there is some
talk about canceling the fȇte, which is one of the reasons I sought
you out today. The other was to ask if you’ve made any progress in
your attempts to find a way to disable the shambler device.”

Something clicked into place. “The automata
had aetherwave receivers, didn’t they?”

“They did.” Gibson said with an approving
smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve considered a career in the spy
business, have you?”

Molly flushed and ducked her head. “Did you
manage to salvage one of the automata?” she asked, instead of
answering the question.

Her brother-in-law let it go. “Not one that
wasn’t smashed to bits, no. Thanks to the sheer size of the
automata, it took a great deal of force to stop them. Half of the
city’s mechapedes were severely damaged or destroyed, although the
police did get to try out their new grenades. Needless to say, the
street will be closed for some time—many buildings other than city
hall were damaged and are no longer structurally sound.”

“I see.” Molly chewed thoughtfully on her
lower lip. “As for the anti-controller, yes, we have made progress.
Not to the point where we can do a test, but we’re close. Of
course, with Liam’s health taking a turn for the worse...”

“The doctor I’m sending is of the highest
order,” Gibson assured her, rising to his feet and picking up his
brush and soot sack. “Let me know the moment you believe the device
to be ready.”

Molly stood also, careful not to look at Jin,
lest she give something away. Given Liam’s reaction, she guessed
that he wouldn’t want anyone to know that more than his extremities
depended on machinery to function. They walked Gibson to the door,
and he waved cheerfully as he walked away. “Thanks for the tip,
guv’nor!” he called, before breaking into the chimney sweep’s call
of “Sweep! Sweep! Sweep!”

“I wondered if he’s ever been hired and had
to clean someone’s chimney,” Molly mused as she shut the door and
threw the bolt.

* * *

The doctor Gibson had promised arrived a few
hours later. He was a small man with a jovial face and
close-cropped white hair and beard. His top hat looked rather
expensive, as did his physician’s uniform of plain black frock
coat, waistcoat, and pants. The medallion of Saint Warrick the
Leper that hung around his neck was gold, set with small chips of
diamond and ruby. Molly showed him up to Liam’s room, where her
friend lay amidst tangled sheets, his copper skin sheened in sweat,
his face drawn and haggard. When he saw them, however, Liam managed
a weak smile. “Molly. Thought I heard your voice.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and took his
uninjured hand. “I didn’t come up before, because I didn’t want to
disturb your rest,” she said. “This is Doctor Aldebrand. Gibson
sent him to take a look at you.”

Liam licked dry lips. “Nice of him.”

The doctor sat his bag on the table by the
bed and opened it. “If you will excuse us, Miss Feldman, for the
sake of the patient’s modesty.”

“Of course.” She gave Liam’s hand a final
squeeze and rose to her feet. “Should I send Jin up?”