The Rebellion Engines

by Jeannie Lin

  “It’s best if he’s not moved for a few days,” I advised. “This is a critical time. He needs to be watched for fever or chills. Any signs of infection.”

  “I’ll stay with him,” Jiang declared.

  I started to remind him that there was no space to rest in the tent. That his section was likely to be called back to work if not the next day, then the one after. Even if the line wasn’t operational, there would be cleanup and repairs.

  “Was he close to you?” I asked instead.

  There was something in his eyes that said it didn’t matter what the rules dictated.

  “I’m responsible for him,” Jiang replied simply.

  I considered asking him whether he’d seen anything suspicious but decided against it. Inspector Hala was certain to interrogate him about the accident. That was the inspector’s responsibility, not mine. I was only there to help the injured and sick.

  As I moved on, I turned back to see Jiang tucking the necklace back into Guo’s tunic and folding the edges of the cloth securely over it.

  Chapter 2

  Chang-wei was waiting for me at the dormitories. He was seated on one of the benches outside. There was a lantern hung from the pole beside him.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here,” I said.

  He rose to come toward me. “We promised we’d speak later,” he said, matter-of-fact.

  That was before I knew it would be midnight before I was able to return to my sleeping quarter. After I’d left the medical tent, the Inspector General had sent word that he wanted an accounting of all the workers who’d been assigned to the Tai Shan facility, who’d been injured, and the nature and seriousness of their injuries. The workers who hadn’t needed to remain in the medical tent were also detained while the Inspector and his men questioned them, taking down a written account in each case.

  I’d stayed to make sure they were brought food and water until they were released to the factory village.

  Those were all things I could have told Chang-wei, but lately our conversations had become stripped down to logistical details about the Factories.

  “It’s late,” I said.

  “I can go,” Chang-wei offered.

  I shook my head tiredly. Even though I didn’t know what we had left to talk about, I didn’t want him to leave.

  Chang-wei came closer. “Today was difficult.”

  I nodded, feeling the weight of the day’s events dragging through every bone. It had been a long time since we’d been alone, able to speak like this.

  “Sometimes I forget how orders from the Directorate affect every single person here,” he admitted.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to expel the fire, ash and pain from my lungs. “It’s gotten worse. The facilities are running all day, every day.”

  He stiffened defensively. “The rebel army is growing stronger by the day. Nanking is impenetrable. Our task here is more important than ever.”

  Nanking was the main stronghold of the Heavenly Peace rebellion, the so-called Taiping army. The rebels had captured the city a year ago and declared it their capital. Other cities had followed, falling one after another to the growing insurrection.

  When we’d first come to the compound, Chang-wei and I had been of one mind. Serve the Emperor as best as we could and keep each other safe. Chang-wei had confided to me when we’d escaped Nagasaki that he wanted for us to be together, but he’d spoken of it just the once and then nothing.

  We’d been betrothed when I was a child, with the understanding that the wedding wouldn’t occur for another decade. Though at the time I hadn’t met Chen Chang-wei, it was my father’s wish that we would be wed. The arrangement fell apart when the war came. My father was sent to his death and my family exiled. Chang-wei was taken prisoner by the Yingguoren.

  During those dark years, Chen Chang-wei remained only a name to me. A ghost from a lost past. When I finally did meet him, we were strangers and the empire was at the brink of another war.

  Chang-wei had helped me bring my family back to Peking. More important than that, I had come to know what sort of character he possessed. He was intelligent, steadfast, loyal. He continued to honor my father as his mentor when others in the Ministry acted as if my father had never existed.

  If Chang-wei had one fault, it was that he was too trusting, just as my father had been. If he had two faults — the second one was that he could be distant. He would close himself off like a silkworm spinning a cocoon.

  I knew he was keeping things from me. There was only one reason he would do so—loyalty to the Emperor. To Greater Qing.

  In that, he also reminded me frighteningly of my father.

  “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want,” I relented.

  He shook his head. “You should know. Inspector Hala is convinced the string of accidents have been due to sabotage. He wants the perpetrators caught and punished.”

  “As I see it, Hala is under pressure to name someone, anyone as the culprit.”

  Chang-wei didn’t respond, but he was visibly troubled at my outspokenness. It was dangerous to challenge someone like Inspector Hala.

  “These incidents are threatening the cause,” Chang-wei continued. “You’re closer to the workers. If you see or hear anything—”

  “I haven’t heard anything,” I protested, too quick.

  Chang-wei eyes were unreadable in the lantern light. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t only the work crews who would suffer if we failed. Chang-wei was the one who had brought his vision of the fearsome automaton army before the imperial throne. He’d promised armored warriors made of rods and gears that could be wired to march on the enemy without risking any lives.

  But that was an illusion. How many lives had we lost over the past year in the Factories? Even for those who hadn’t suffered injury, they had been taken away from their homes to be brought here.

  “Do you regret coming here?” he asked quietly. With me, were the unspoken words.

  “No.” But was he starting to regret it?

  “Head Engineer Chen,” a voice called from down the path. The messenger stopped a respectful distance away.

  Chang-wei took a step back from me. “Yes?”

  “You’re needed at the Citadel.”

  “Now? It’s past midnight,” I protested.

  Chang-wei regarded me for a long moment, his eyes dark and thoughtful. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he turned away to reply. “I’ll be there right away.”

  The messenger stood rooted where he was, looking on impassively. We weren’t going to be given any privacy.

  “Try to get some sleep,” Chang-wei said finally, disappointment showing on his face.

  “You as well.”

  He nodded, but I knew there would be no rest for him. Chang-wei was Head Engineer. If the work crews were being run into the ground, I could only imagine what the Directorate was demanding of him.

  The next morning, families came from the factory village to set up a cook stand outside the infirmary tent. I arrived to the sight of a large pot of odds-and-ends stew simmering over a fire.

  Conscripted labor for the Factories were typically young men and women. In rare cases, some of them came with families, feeding into the broken-down settlement that had sprouted up outside the factory complex. The presence of the so-called factory village wasn’t officially sanctioned by the Directorate, but the villagers intermingled with the workforce and had become interwoven into factory life.

  The ongoing skirmish with the rebels had displaced many families in the surrounding provinces. Those stragglers had also found their way to the village. It was a fragile and ever-changing community. One I had only experienced in small glimpses during brief visits.

  I entered the infirmary tent and found the numbers inside had thinned. Kai was already at work but paused to come to me with a report. More than half had been well enough to return to the dormitories and only serious injuries remained. One man had died over
night.

  “One,” I echoed, feeling sick to my stomach. “The boy who lost his leg?”

  “Little Guo?”

  I regarded Kai curiously. “You know him?”

  “I heard some of them using the nickname. He’s fine. Still here, asleep.” He gestured toward the center of the tent.

  The factory authority would hardly care about one life lost. More conscripts would be brought in to replace him and anyone deemed too injured to continue work. The cycle would continue.

  I went to Guo’s cot and was surprised to find his friend, Jiang, crouched beside him. He appeared to have slept on the ground. His usually rough look was even rougher with the dark circles under his eyes.

  “Yishi,” he greeted, looking up at me somberly.

  I bent to feel for Guo’s pulse. It was faint, but stronger than yesterday. “His pulse is steady,” I said to Jiang as he watched me with his hawkish gaze.

  “Guo hasn’t woken,” he said.

  “That may be a good sign. As long as there’s no fever.”

  The boy had enough opium in his system to keep the pain at bay so he could rest. That was what he needed most.

  “Have you not been summoned back to the line?” I asked.

  “Tai Shan is shut down.”

  “Still?”

  I wasn’t knowledgeable about the factory schedules and quotas, but yesterday’s fire had been extinguished and by now the smoke would have cleared. Only part of the building was damaged while the rest had appeared stable. With the aggressive schedule set by the Directorate, I would have assumed everyone would be ordered back to work as soon as possible. That’s what had always happened in the past.

  “Perhaps that’s for the best at the moment.” I looked down at Guo, my heart aching for him. “Once Guo has recovered, he’ll be transported back to the main infirmary and arrangements will be made for his discharge.”

  “Discharge?” Jiang frowned. “Won’t he be put back on the line?”

  I was shocked at the suggestion. “His injury is very serious.”

  “He can be fitted with a mechanical leg. I’ve seen injured workers put back on the line in a matter of weeks.” His mouth twisted. “Isn’t that what’s important to the Directorate? Productivity?”

  “It may be better for Guo to be sent home.”

  “As a cripple?” Jiang spat. His anger hit me harder than a physical blow.

  “It’s not my decision,” I told him.

  “Guo would want to return to work,” Jiang insisted. “The term of his conscription isn’t done,” he explained, seeing my look of doubt. “He has a younger brother at home who will be brought in to take his place.”

  I thought of the carving young Guo wore around his neck. I didn’t recognize the symbol, but there were numerous cohorts and brotherhoods among the factory workers. It would explain Jiang’s protectiveness.

  “Your friend was close to the explosion. Inspector Hala will insist on interrogating him,” I warned.

  It was too easy to be branded a traitor. I didn’t want to see that happen to Guo after all he’d suffered.

  “You’re Manchu, aren’t you?” Jiang challenged.

  I braced myself. “I am.”

  My father was Manchurian, directly descended from the banner armies that helped found the dynasty. My mother was Han. It didn’t matter that Manchu and Han lived among one another or that a Manchu emperor had been on the throne for hundreds of years. There were Han loyalists who still considered the Manchu barbaric foreigners. I was used to the insults.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Jiang said, his tone cold.

  “What wouldn’t I understand?” I asked carefully.

  He looked directly at me with a gaze that was weighted, dragged down by time and experience. “We’re all the same to you. We’re all expendable.”

  The Tai Shan facility had been cordoned off. Armed guards stationed at the entrance moved to block my path as I approached. I argued that I was there to inspect the safety conditions, but the guards refused to move.

  The door opened after one of the guardsmen had raised his voice.

  It was Chang-wei. “Let her in.”

  For him, the guards moved aside easily. I slipped through the door and Chang-wei pushed it shut behind us.

  “Tai Shan is closed for the day?” I began.

  Chang-wei cast a pointed look at me, cutting my inquiry short. He directed me farther into the building. There was a small cleanup crew inside, but no one I recognized.

  “We are completing a thorough inspection for safety purposes,” Chang-wei explained. “Starting tomorrow, the factory authority will rotate new workers onto the lines at Tai Shan.”

  “Won’t the new crew need to be retrained?”

  Each of the facilities was outfitted with a unique set of machinery.

  “It will be a minor delay. An argument was made that the old rotation was overworked. Many of them were injured in the explosion or witnessed it close at hand. They might be nervous to come back.”

  “Is everyone who was assigned at Tai Shan being treated as suspect?” I asked, lowering my voice.

  “We need the assembly lines functional as soon as possible. Production is critical to our success.”

  Chang-wei’s use of we and our when talking about the Directorate made my head throb.

  We had reached the furnace, a massive structure with an outer wall of stone and mortar. It took up half of the facility. Chang-wei ducked beside the hearth and gestured for me to follow. I hesitated in front of the cavernous hollow. The walls were charred black and the supports around it were warped and torn. The surrounding debris had been cleared away, but the smell of sulfur and ash permeated the air.

  “It’s safe,” Chang-wei assured, holding out his hand.

  Letting out a breath, I placed my hand into his and allowed myself to be drawn into the alcove.

  “The gauges were tampered with,” he said, tapping against an instrument panel. “Heat and pressure inside built up unchecked.”

  “Have you told Inspector Hala?”

  “Not yet.”

  No one from the cleaning crew was nearby. Chang-wei kept his voice low, making me wonder the reason for the sudden secrecy. Surely Chang-wei wasn’t the only one who suspected sabotage.

  “This is going to cause a major disruption. Hala will have everyone interrogated. I fear he’ll demand all of the workers replaced and dismantle the factory village, but that’s not the worst of it.” He paused, considering his next words. “I don’t think it was the conscripts,” he said finally.

  “Who else could it be?”

  He hushed me as footsteps passed by outside. We waited until the sounds faded.

  “I think someone with detailed knowledge of this machinery tampered with the configuration.”

  “You always tell me it’s easier to break something than build it,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Whoever did this was more than an operator. The changes were subtle, hard to detect.”

  I realized then why he was being so secretive.

  “Do you suspect it could be one of your engineers?” I asked, incredulous.

  Jaw clenched, he stared at the instrument panel, as if the answer could be read in the needles and dials. His mouth formed a hard line. “There’s been some talk in the Citadel that I’m the one deliberately delaying production.”

  “You? Who would think that?”

  As Head Engineer, Chang-wei’s reputation was tied to the success of the project.

  “I have deliberately caused delays,” he admitted.

  I frowned at him. “Why?”

  Chang-wei had dedicated himself night and day to the creation of the Emperor’s automatons.

  “The prototype isn’t ready,” he said. “The imperial court has demanded an army large enough to march on several fronts while all I have are worthless hunks of metal.” He stared at the scorch marks singed over the panel. “If I tell Inspector Hala my suspicion, he’ll bring everything to a
halt. Including the engineering work in the Citadel. And right now, that’s all it is—a suspicion.”

  I held out hope there wasn’t deliberate sabotage. The facilities were well-guarded and I didn’t like the thought of Inspector Hala exerting his full authority over the entire compound.

  “At the very least, I have to assume all the facilities could be compromised,” Chang-wei ran a hand roughly over his face. “I’ll need to check the equipment myself if there’s a chance the culprit is someone from the engineering corps.”

  “That’s madness, Chang-wei.” He couldn’t do it all himself.

  “I have to go.”

  But he didn’t. Not yet. Instead, he lowered his forehead to rest it against mine. I could feel the weight of mountains pressing down on him and wished I could do something to lighten the burden. I reached up to touch his cheek and he closed his eyes. We stayed like that for a long time, the moments flowing by.

  “There’s so much I want to say to you, Soling, but it never seems to be the right time.”

  My pulse skipped. “I feel the same.”

  I could hear Chang-wei exhaling slowly, as if coming to some decision. Then he opened his eyes and left to carry out his new task, knowing it would mean further delays and more pressure from Peking.

  I watched him go, wishing I had said more to him. It was the last I saw of Chang-wei for months.

  Chapter 3

  As Chang-wei feared, Inspector Hala tore through the assembly lines after the incident at Tai Shan, removing conscripts. Every day, I would receive a list of names purged from our records with no other explanation. Chang-wei was incorrect about one thing, however. Work did not stop at the Factories. The Directorate pushed for production to continue.

  By the end of the month, all of the facilities were at least operational, if not at full capacity. There were guards stationed at each site, and a guard even accompanied me whenever I visited the factory village to check on the residents. Inspector Hala became more insufferable in his requests for reports.