Shanghai Sparrow

by Gaie Sebold

  Not a robbery, Eveline thought. All this stuff, even the little light things, still here. That, or the robbers are still here, and working their way through. She tugged at her mother’s hand, and when Madeleine looked at her, she mouthed – If you get the chance, run.

  Madeleine shook her head, and held her hand tighter. Not without you.

  They reached a door that was bigger than the gate, at least twenty feet high. Heavy wood furnished with formidable iron bolts – all of them now open.

  “No!” Holmforth said. He shoved the door open, and almost pushed the women through it.

  The room was huge, and full of things that glittered and ticked and gleamed.

  And a dragon.

  It was made of brass and bronze, copper and iron, it glowed in the dim light like treasure. Its head alone was as big as the car they had arrived in. Collapsed across one of its great clawed feet lay the body of an elderly Chinese man with eyeglasses and a long wispy beard.

  Holmforth gave a sigh of relief. “Untouched.” He dumped the sack on the floor.

  “Look, Mr Holmforth, I know this machine’s important to you,” Eveline said, “but maybe you ain’t noticed that’s the second bit of cold meat we’ve come across, and being as I don’t think they died of the pleurisy, maybe whoever done for ’em’s still here and maybe we should make ourselves scarce?”

  “What a very perspicacious young woman you are,” said a voice. “But there’s no need for alarm. I believe the villains have already vacated the premises.”

  The man who entered the room was a dapper, blond swell, neat as ninepence, looking with distaste at the body on the floor. “I apologise,” he said to Holmforth. “I know you weren’t expecting me for another day or so, but I had business to conduct, and given all your work, I thought I should investigate for myself. I think perhaps my arrival warned off the miscreants.”

  “This is worrying,” Holmforth said. “Do you think that they could have been working for other interests?”

  The blond man shook his head. “If so, they were easily distracted. However, I shall certainly put investigations in place. You have a man outside?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I am sure he will warn us if they return. Now, perhaps you would introduce me?”

  Eveline’s back hairs were up and singing louder than before. She’d seen a body or two in her time – when she was sleeping out, she’d more than once woken up after a bad frost to see someone a few feet away gone grey and empty in the night. But these had been killed – murdered – and these two were acting as though it was nothing, as though they were at a drawing-room party.

  She eyed the blond man. A toff of the first water, right enough – what he had on his back would have earned her a week’s extra dumplings in her dinner at Ma Pether’s – and eyes that made Holmforth’s look warm.

  “Of course,” Holmforth said. “This is Mrs Duchen, her daughter Eveline, and Miss Beth Hastings. This is Viscount Forbes-Cresswell.”

  Forbes-Cresswell bowed. “I have to say, Holmforth, charming though I’m sure they are, I’m not entirely sure why you felt it necessary to bring quite such a collection of females with you?”

  “Eveline is the one with Etheric ability. Beth has some mechanical skill. And it seemed wise not to leave any of them unattended, once they knew of the machine’s existence.” Holmforth sighed. “I am trying to impress upon them the importance of this development, its significance to the Empire.”

  “Ah, yes, the machine. I assume that is it?” He gestured at the dragon. “How intriguing! Would you be able to make that demonstration you were speaking of?”

  “Miss Duchen, if you please.”

  Eveline drew a deep breath. “All right. But will you move him, please? I en’t going to be able to concentrate that well with some dead geezer flopped all over the floor.”

  “Unfortunate,” Forbes-Cresswell said, looking at Wu Jisheng. “But it does reduce complications.”

  “Eveline, you don’t have to do this!” Madeleine took her daughter by the hands. “Please....”

  “I do, Mama. I’m sorry, but it’s the only way for us to be safe. It’ll all be all right, I promise.”

  “I won’t let you!”

  “Please, Mrs Duchen,” Holmforth said. “Stand aside, if you would. I really don’t want to have to restrain you.” He bent down and undid the neck of the sack.

  Out spilled a young Chinese woman, dressed in embroidered robes, extremely dishevelled, her hands and ankles bound.

  “Oh, the poor child!” Madeleine cried.

  “There’s no need for sentiment. It’s a fox-spirit. Look.” Holmforth pointed with his cane. Sure enough, the white-tipped brush could be clearly seen protruding from beneath the girl’s tunic.

  “All right, let her stand up,” Eveline said.

  Holmforth gestured.

  The girl got stiffly to her feet, (normal feet, these, even perhaps a little large) and stood staring.

  Eveline glanced at Beth. Beth tucked her hands into her skirt.

  The Chinese girl turned her head to look at her.

  “Right then,” Eveline said. “Shall we get on? And can someone please shift that poor old geezer?” Forbes-Cresswell looked at Holmforth, who went and took Wu Jisheng by his shoulders and dragged him out of sight behind a heavily-carved screen. “Thank you.”

  “Eveline...” Madeleine said.

  “It’s all right, Mama. You sit down. Can’t one of you gents find a chair for a lady? Honestly, rude, I call it.”

  “Quite right,” Forbes-Cresswell said, and drew up one of the heavy lacquered chairs. “If you please, Madam.”

  Madeleine sat down, gingerly, fidgeting with her gloves. She looked desperately tired and nervous.

  Holmforth turned his back for a moment. Eveline, watching, realised he was inserting his earplugs.

  She steeled herself. “Beth, you come with me.” She looked up at the dragon. Niches were provided in its great bronze foreleg, making a set of steps up into the head.

  “Miss Duchen,” Forbes-Cresswell said. “Don’t be foolish, will you?” He was standing right behind her mother’s chair. There was a red smear on one of his immaculate white cuffs.

  “I en’t going to do anything but what I’m told,” Eveline said, trying not to stare at that smear, her brain racing.

  She climbed into the dragon’s head, Beth close behind her.

  Inside it was like a fantastical cave of brass and bronze, levers and dials – and Chinese lettering. She’d enough of the spoken tongue to get by, thanks to Liu, but the writing was still a mystery.

  Still, she recognised a few of the instruments, most of them three times the size of what she was used to, the grooves in which ball bearings should be placed, as big as gutters, running everywhere inside the head. A case of ball bearings, like shining cricket balls, lay at her feet. There were levers and dials which reminded her more of the controls of the Sacagawea.

  If only she could ask Mama! It had seemed safer that Holmforth thought Mama completely ignorant – though now it was all up in the air, and there was no safety anywhere. They’d just have to go with what they’d got and hope for the best.

  “Oh, my. Eveline, look at this!” Beth said.

  “Very pretty. You can play with it later. You talked to Mama, just tell me if I’m doing anything’s going to make anyone go mad or such.”

  “If I knew that, we’d be fine. All right. That lever there, and then that. It won’t do anything at all, I don’t think, except make a noise.”

  She pulled the first lever. A deep thrumming vibration spread through the dragon’s body, tickling the soles of her feet through her shoes. She picked up a ball bearing and dropped it into one of the gutters, pulled another lever. The ball bearing started to move, making a high, singing note.

  She looked out through the dragon’s mouth; everyone was still in place. “Beth, we got trouble,” she said quietly, trusting the noise to cover her.

  “More of it?”
>
  “Yes. That Forbes-Cresswell – there’s blood on his cuff.”

  “Blood?”

  “I think he’s the one killed the old geezer and the girl. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I don’t think Holmforth knows they ain’t on the same side. I’d bet he’s got men with him. You found anything?”

  “I think it moves. The dragon. I think these controls make it move. I can’t work them all out, though.”

  “Don’t touch anything yet, it ain’t safe, not with Mama right there. All right, here we go, time to prove the pudding.”

  She lifted another ball bearing, eased it into its gutter.

  The note it added as it began to move was an uneasy one, a waspish buzz.

  “Go,” Eveline said.

  Beth pulled out from her skirts the small instrument she’d hidden, and aimed it, keeping it carefully below the line of sight of those out front.

  The Chinese girl shuddered.

  The two men turned to look at her. Madeleine put her hands over her eyes.

  Eveline set a metal disc spinning. The sound became jagged. The girl jolted, and collapsed to her knees.

  “Eveline, stop! Don’t!” Madeleine tried to get up, but Forbes-Cresswell’s hand came down on her shoulder, crushing her back into her seat.

  The girl fell on her side, convulsing. A gleam appeared under her left ear. “Turn it off!” Eveline hissed.

  “Dammit...” Beth twiddled dials frantically, but the girl continued to convulse. Then her head came up at a painful, impossible angle, and hit the floor with a ringing crash.

  She lay still. Holmforth bent over her. Forbes-Cresswell didn’t move.

  “Turn it off,” Holmforth said, loudly. “Turn it off, Duchen.”

  Eveline pulled levers. The dragon became silent.

  Holmforth straightened up and took out his earplugs. “Duchen,” he said, “did you really think that would work?”

  “What...” Forbes-Cresswell said.

  “It’s a mannequin,” Holmforth said. “I don’t know how she managed it, but it’s a mannequin. Look.” He reached down and lifted off the girl’s wig, revealing Lazy Lou’s bald, shining pate.

  “Well fuck me with a ten foot pole,” Eveline said. “How’d that happen?”

  “Don’t play with me, Duchen.” Holmforth’s face was white, with hectic red patches on his cheekbones. He aimed the gun at her. Eveline felt her stomach drop. “I suppose the Treadwell girl was in on it too. I assume this means you don’t know what you’re doing, that you have been deceiving me all along? If that is the case, your usefulness is at an end.” He turned to Forbes-Cresswell. “I can only apologise. She must have made the switch somehow. It shouldn’t take long to find another subject, but finding someone who can actually work the machine... well...”

  “I can!” Madeleine said. “Please. I’m the one who can work the machine. Not Evvie. She’s been trying to protect me. It was all the fault of James – oh, never mind. Just don’t hurt her.”

  “You.” Holmforth looked at her. “You can work it?”

  “Of course I can! Just let me show you, but please don’t hurt my girl!”

  “Really, Holmforth,” Forbes-Cresswell said. “You do have an extraordinary collection of females. Do put the gun down, old fellow, before your temper gets the better of you and we lose our leverage.”

  Holmforth sighed harshly. “Oh, very well.”

  “In fact, perhaps you’d better give it to me.”

  “I assure you...”

  “Holmforth.” Forbes-Cresswell held out his hand.

  Holmforth, automatically, put the gun in it.

  “Thank you,” Forbes-Cresswell said, tucking it away. “Now, the earplugs.”

  “What?”

  Forbes-Cresswell trained his own gun on Holmforth. “Earplugs. Now.”

  “I don’t...”

  “Really, Holmforth. We still need a subject. And you will do as well as any. Admittedly, the fact that you are partly human may make a difference, but I need something to show my buyer.”

  “Your... buyer. Who...?”

  “That’s of no consequence. However, he will be here soon, and if I don’t have evidence, he may become impatient at being dragged all the way out here. I have a reputation to maintain.”

  Beth and Eveline looked at each other. “He’s a spy!” Beth whispered.

  “Nah, just a thief,” Eveline whispered back.

  “But he’s in the Government!”

  “So? So’s Holmforth, and he was planning to nick this off of poor old Wu there. Ma Pether always said there’s more crooks in the Houses of Parliament than there are in Limehouse – they just dress better. C’n you get this bugger moving?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Miss Duchen,” Forbes-Cresswell raised his voice. “I hope you are not attempting to conspire with your little friend there. Come out, now. It’s time for your mama to show what she can do. Really, you do seem to be a remarkably resourceful family.”

  “What are you doing?” Holmforth said. “You can’t mean to do this!”

  “Of course I can, old boy.”

  “Is it a test?” Holmforth said. He sounded suddenly, strangely young – a boy facing a harsh schoolmaster. “You’re testing me. I know you can’t mean it. Do you want to know if I’m willing? I’m willing!” A sudden horrible kind of brightness took over his face. “Yes! Test the machine! I understand! It might kill it, it might burn it out of me! Please! Rid me of it!”

  Forbes-Cresswell stared at him, and shrugged. “It’s no odds to me what you believe,” he said, keeping the gun on Holmforth, his glance flicking from him to the women. “Sit in that chair.”

  Holmforth did so, staring at Forbes-Cresswell like a dog hoping for a biscuit. “This is it, isn’t it? You’re testing me. This was the plan all along.”

  “You’re a fool, Holmforth. Come out, Miss Duchen. And you, Miss Hastings.”

  The girls stepped down from the dragon’s head.

  “Now,” Forbes-Cresswell said. “I want no nonsense. Mrs Duchen, get in there and make this thing work. Otherwise, I’ll kill your daughter, and her little friend. Understand?”

  “Yes. Don’t hurt them, please. But you’ll have to give me a little time. This doesn’t look like anything I’ve used before.”

  “You have until my buyer gets here.”

  Madeleine Duchen walked stiffly towards the dragon. As she passed the girls, she put out her hand and stroked Evvie’s hair. “Everything will be all right.” She smiled at them.

  “You, girl,” Forbes-Cresswell said. “Tie him up.”

  “With what?”

  “The old man has a sash around him. Use that.”

  Eveline, grimacing, worked the sash out from around the old man’s stiffening body. One of his shoes fell off. His stockinged foot was somehow awful, pathetic. The gun gave Forbes-Cresswell too much advantage; but, maybe, not quite as much as he thought. Besides, something like this, Ma Pether had said, it only has one shot and you gotta reload. What good’s that? Don’t need to reload your head, do you?

  Could she get him to fire it? He had Holmforth’s gun, too, of course – but he had stuck it in his jacket, and she didn’t know how quick he could get at it.

  Not worth the risk, not with the way bullets flew about, not caring who they hit.

  Use what’s to hand. The old man had a long silver finger-stall, with a pointed end, on the little finger of his left hand... not much, but better than nothing. She palmed it, and began to tie up Holmforth. She yanked on the sash, wanting to punish him.

  “There’s no need for this,” he said.

  Forbes-Cresswell ignored him, inspected Eveline’s knots, and nodded. “Now move over there by your friend. Mrs Duchen?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hope you are not planning on displaying any foolish sentimentality this time?”

  Madeleine Duchen looked at him steadily. “This man brought my daughter into danger. Do you really think I care for one moment if
he suffers? I hope he suffers.”

  Oh, Mama.

  “Very well,” Forbes-Cresswell said. “Oh, and I believe this Etherics can be used on humans. I should warn you that if I feel, for even a moment, any change in my mental state, your daughter dies. You understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Eveline watched as her mama began to move the levers inside the machine; her long hands, with their worn, reddened fingers. Did she remember? Could she remember? All those years locked away, working only with bits and scraps...

  “This will be a great moment!” Holmforth said. “The future is beginning here, can’t you feel it?” He looked at Eveline. “Even you, you must. The Empire will shine its light upon the savage and pagan remnant of the Folk and...”

  “Oh, really, Holmforth,” Forbes-Cresswell said. “You’re becoming tedious. That sort of jaw is all very well for schoolmasters and clergy and vote-getting, but is that really what you think Empire is? Some sort of cleansing fire of virtue and enlightenment? The business of Empire is business, Holmforth. Coin, moving from one pocket to another. And I’m a businessman, no more, no less.”

  Holmforth’s eyes searched Forbes-Cresswell’s face, but whatever he sought, he did not find it. His face became very still. Eveline, watching, almost expected tiny cracks to race across his features; behind that mask, something was crumbling, falling away.

  Forbes-Cresswell’s eyes moved from him, to Mama in the dragon’s head, to the two girls. Beth looked at Eveline, biting her lip. What now?

  Be ready, Eveline mouthed. Ready for what, she didn’t know. A flicker in Forbes-Cresswell’s attention. Anything.

  The dragon began to sing. A low vibration in its throat, rising slowly, building potential, holding the promise of thunder.

  After a moment, Holmforth drew a hissing breath. He began to shift in his chair, straining against his bounds and moving his head restlessly, as though bothered by flies.

  Then he moaned.

  Beth gasped as blood began to seep from Holmforth’s ears. It trickled down his neck, and a small red flower bloomed where it ran onto his starched collar.