The Havoc Machine

by Steven Harper

  No, Thad was a good man, despite his bloody past, and Sofiya felt a twinge of guilt when she thought of what she had done to him. Guilt was, in fact, the most familiar of all Sofiya’s emotions, and when that burden became too heavy, she did fantasize about letting go, becoming a complete madwoman, no matter what Thad said. It might be nice to remain utterly selfish, not caring about anyone or anything else.

  Kalvis galloped onward, leaping and snorting steam as he went. Maddie hunkered down for the ride. A silly name for a spider, but Thad had allowed her to name Nikolai, so she supposed he must take a turn. The crowd at the Field of Mars had managed to flee, and the place was nearly empty but for the gallows and the grandstand. A scattering of havoc spiders scuttled toward the pontoon bridge at the far end, and Sofiya urged Kalvis to greater speed. She could catch them, find out where they had come from, but they had to hurry. Chilly autumn air rushed past her face, and Kalvis’s hooves thudded on hard earth.

  At the pontoon bridge, the one that crossed the River Neva past the Peter and Paul Fortress to Petrogradsky Island, the trail of spiders turned left—west—and skittered downstream behind the Winter Palace to a different bridge seven or eight blocks away. That bridge, Sofiya recalled from Thad’s maps, crossed to Vasilyevsky Island, the other large island of Saint Petersburg. Thoroughly mystified now, Sofiya urged Kalvis to follow. The horde of havoc spiders, now in a variety of colors, but all with ten legs, crossed the bridge with a deafening click of metal claws on wood. Traffic had already fled the pontoon bridge. Sofiya let the last of them get halfway across before she herself set out.

  Vasilyevsky Island was large enough that it didn’t feel like an island. The western half was taken up by shipping docks. The eastern tip, where Sofiya crossed, was buildings of brick and stone and a mix of paved streets and muddy byways. The northern side was still damp forest. The island was inhabited only by the wealthy, those who served them, and by people connected to the museum and the Academy of—

  Sofiya bit her hand. Of course! Now she knew where the spiders had come from—and where they were going. The Russian Academy of Sciences was one of the few areas in Saint Petersburg with a network of tunnels and subcellars beneath it. That, and the resources of the Academy, made it the perfect place for a clockworker to hide. Thad had even circled it on the maps. They would have investigated it earlier if it had also included a railroad spur.

  The havoc spiders continued on their way. The army would have been following them, except they were occupied in keeping order in the city and protecting the tsar. It seemed to be up to Sofiya. The spiders completely ignored everything around them now. Word seemed to have spread about the disaster, and the streets were empty. Every door was shut, every window shuttered. It felt eerie to ride her clockwork horse down silent, empty streets in broad daylight.

  Around a corner, she came to the Academy, a series of buildings that bent together in a giant triangle around a courtyard. The Academy buildings were stony and colonnaded, just like the barrack at the Field of Mars, and four stories tall. The havoc spiders had found a downward staircase cut into one side of a wall. It ended in a heavy door that was propped open, and the spiders scuttled through. Did anyone else see this through shutter cracks and window curtains?

  Heart pounding, Sofiya dismounted, told Kalvis to stay, and crept down the stony stairs to the door. It creaked open, and Maddie echoed the sound.

  “Hush,” Sofiya told her, wondering if this was how Thad felt about Dante. That poor bird—forced to exist in a half-broken state. She could see in her head how to repair his gears properly, fit new feathers into place, perhaps even allow him to fly. She could—

  Concentrate. She had to concentrate.

  The hall beyond was dark and damp. Sofiya slipped inside, nervous but determined. Thad wasn’t the only one who could track down rogues. Ahead of her from around a corner came a blue luminescence that wobbled up and down. Sofiya peeped around the wall and saw the havoc spiders each exuding a tiny tendril with a glowing bit of phosphorescence at the end. Maddie squeaked excitedly in her ear. There was a pop, and the little spider showed a glowing tendril of her own.

  “Thank you, little one,” Sofiya murmured.

  The havoc spiders filled the tunnel ahead, on walls and floor and ceiling, all marching steadily toward a goal only they understood. They hadn’t hurt any humans back in the city and even now they seemed perfectly content to ignore Sofiya, but it seemed prudent to keep her distance anyway.

  The tunnels beneath the Academy were labyrinthine. Sofiya followed spiders and wound her way under low ceilings and through grates and down staircases. The chill, damp air invaded her lungs, and the incessant skritching sound of the spiders’ claws on stone filled her head with sand. Sofiya’s treacherous brain automatically calculated how deep she had gone, how many tons of earth pressed down above her, how much weight the stones in the walls were bearing. Thad had said this sort of place should make her feel secure, but it only made her feel ill. To take her mind off it all, she took out her energy pistol and cranked the tiny generator to power it back up again.

  At last she heard a different sound ahead, the sound of large machines whirring and clanking and thumping. The havoc spiders went down a final staircase and vanished, taking their glow with them and leaving Sofiya in a tiny pool of blue light surrounded by utter darkness. The machine sounds clanked up the stairs at her like an angry factory. Sofiya did not want to go down those stairs. Her heart beat hot in her chest, and every nerve in her body screamed at her to run. But she had to know what—who—was down there. Mouth dry, blood pounding in her ears, she forced herself down the spiral steps.

  The angry machine sounds grew louder, and the blue glow became visible again from a space beyond the bottom. Maddie shivered. Her light went out. Sofiya pressed her back to the staircase stones and carefully peered around the final bend.

  In the large room beyond stood an enormous machine, the like of which Sofiya had never dreamed. Conveyer belts and hoppers and metal arms and pistons and riveters and air hammers and objects Sofiya had no name for whirled and hissed and popped and hummed. Thousands of havoc spiders wandered about the room, covering every available surface. Attached in center of it all, much like Mr. Griffin’s glass jar, sat a larger version of the spiders, one with intricate etchings all over it. Incongruously, next to the spider sat a small silver chair.

  Sofiya’s clockworker eye made quick connections in the machinery and she realized that everything was run by that single spider. Behind the spider’s body whirled a titanic bank of memory wheels that took up the entire rear wall of the room. This single spider was advanced enough to expand its own capabilities, which gave it the power to expand itself further, which let itself expand again and again. Even as she watched, a set of havoc spiders slotted another set of memory wheels into place, and they started to spin. Sofiya swallowed. The concept was brilliant—and frightening. If nothing stopped this thing, it might become powerful enough to take control of…well, anything. In just a few minutes of rampage, it had doubled the size of its army of havoc spiders. Had that been a test? Sofiya went cold at the thought. And who was in charge of this machine? Havoc had to be dead. Even a clockworker couldn’t have survived that explosion. Mr. Griffin had spiders of his own, and he was in an entirely different part of the city. So who?

  A group of thirty spiders separated themselves from the others and leaped into a hopper. The hopper dumped the spiders without ceremony into another machine that made a terrible grinding noise. Maddie gave a tiny, almost inaudible squeak. The machine made more noise, and fully a third of the visible memory wheels paused, then spun in a new configuration. Sofiya surmised that a great deal of information had come to the machine. She should probably slip away, but she stayed rooted to her hiding place. She had to know what was going on.

  A conveyer belt that led out of the main machine clanked to life. A moment later, a figure emerged, rolling atop it. Sofiya stared in shock. The figure was Nikolai.

  N
ikolai reached the end of the conveyer belt and toppled off it to the floor. Sofiya automatically reached for him, and stopped herself. This wasn’t her Nikolai. It was a monstrosity, some wretched creature spat out by this awful machine. She watched, hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. The false Nikolai pushed himself unsteadily upright. He had no clothes on, his movements were uncertain, and his hair looked wild and patchy, but it was definitely Nikolai. His skin showed fresh rivets, and the pistons in his joints were similarly visible. With jerky motions and strange twitches, he pulled himself up to the silver chair and dropped into it. A spider pushed a thick wire into his ear with a heavy click.

  “Thad-de-us,” Nikolai said. His voice was guttural and made Sofiya’s skin crawl with worms. “Dan-te. So-fi-ya.”

  The memory wheels changed their whirling. A spark crackled up the wire into Nikolai’s ear. He shuddered hard and went limp. The chair released him, and he fell out of it.

  More spiders went into the hopper. The conveyer belt clanked, and another Nikolai rolled out of the machine, fell to floor, and jerked upright like a half-dead marionette. It started toward the chair. Yet more spiders went into the hopper. Sofiya was panting now. The machine and its havoc spiders could build more than just more spiders—it could build other machines. It was also clear that the spiders had been searching for Nikolai. The moment they had found him and examined him, they had returned. It explained why the attack had ended so abruptly. But why Nikolai?

  She thought about shooting the machine, or perhaps its bank of memory wheels, with her pistol. But a quick clockwork calculation told her that she would be unlikely to do lasting damage with her single shot, and the havoc spiders would no doubt exact immediate revenge.

  A third Nikolai trundled out of the machine. This one landed without falling, and its movements were more lifelike. Practice, apparently, had an impact on the machine’s reproductive prowess. The third Nikolai pushed the second Nikolai aside and climbed up to the chair. The wire clicked into his ear, and the havoc spiders dumped the first Nikolai, who still hadn’t moved, into the hopper with more spiders.

  “Thaddeus,” grunted the third Nikolai. “Dante. Sofi-ya.”

  Suddenly Sofiya didn’t care what was going on. All that mattered was that she had to get out of there, make sure Nikolai and Thad were safe, and tell someone what was going on. Let the tsar and his soldiers handle this. For once, the Russian dislike of clockworkers would work in her favor.

  “Sofi-ya,” said Nikolai III again in his thick voice. “Sofi-ya! Sofi-ya!”

  A chill ran through Sofiya as she realized that Nikolai III had seen her. The machine, every bit of it, stopped. Silence slammed through the chamber. The main havoc spider looked at Sofiya with hard eyes.

  “Sofi-ya!” said Nikolai III.

  The spiders swarmed toward the door. Sofiya fled. Maddie popped her light to life as Sofiya bolted up the stairs. She didn’t dare look back, but she heard the horrible claws coming after her. The stones were slippery beneath her shoes. Her clockworker memory, sharpened further by fear, let her retrace her route, and she ran and ran and ran. Maddie’s light bobbed up and down with every step, and her breath came harsh in her ears. Still the spiders came. Sofiya was faster than a normal human or they would have caught her with ease. She tried to think, tried to find a way to slow or stop them, but she hadn’t had time to snatch any tools or weapons from the Black Tent, had nothing but Maddie and an energy pistol with one shot.

  Sofiya scrambled up a staircase. Could her single shot bring down the tunnel behind her? Too risky. Even the most carefully placed bolt might bring down the entire thing. She was panting now, and a stitch pulled at her side. The blue glow of the spiders and their skritching claws came relentlessly after her, like dogs on a hunt. She ducked through a grate and climbed more stairs. Her shins and knees burned. Even a clockworker couldn’t run forever.

  The door to the outside appeared just ahead of her, limned in light. A havoc spider leaped onto her back. Its claws dug in. She screamed and snatched it away. Another one got into her skirts. She kept running even as she fought with it. It bit her hands. The pain sliced through her flesh, and she screamed again. Slippery blood ran down her palms. Maddie dropped onto the havoc spider and fought with it. Sofiya was at the door now. She managed to pull the two spiders apart. The havoc spider bit her a second time even as she flung it away and burst outside into blinding light. Panting and bleeding, she forced herself to leap up the steps to the spot where—oh thank God!—Kalvis waited.

  Havoc spiders poured out the door behind door. Sofiya flung herself into the saddle. “Go!” she shouted, and Kalvis leaped forward.

  They tore through the streets, buildings on their right, the River Neva with its heavy load of boats on their left. Dripping blood from her injured hand, Sofiya arrived at the pontoon bridge back to the mainland and turned to check behind her. No spiders in sight. Kalvis had lost them. She allowed herself a relieved sigh and patted his brassy neck.

  “You’re a fine horse, you are,” she said, and he snorted once.

  Her hand throbbed and she examined it a little more closely. Two wounds but not too bad. They hurt and wanted cleaning, but—

  The horde of spiders swarmed into view. Sofiya flinched. How had they tracked her?

  A drop of blood landed on the stones at Kalvis’s feet, answering her question. What now? She couldn’t lead them back to the circus—and to Nikolai. But neither could she run forever. She glanced at the pontoon bridge, floating on its odd upside-down boats. Dammit! Everything was always impossible.

  “Go!” she ordered Kalvis, who bolted onto the planks. His hooves pounded across them in a blur, but it didn’t drown out the sound of hundreds of havoc spiders and their claws scrambling onto the bridge behind her. Kalvis galloped, and Sofiya clung to the saddle with bloody hands until they were halfway across. Abruptly she halted the horse and wheeled him around, nearly causing him to stumble. Maddie squeaked and jumped down to cling to the saddle. The havoc spiders swarmed closer. They were perhaps twenty yards away. Sofiya, mouth dry, dropped to the planking to face them. When the spiders saw she had stopped, they seemed to double their speed. They formed a seething black and gold mass that engulfed the bridge beneath them. A strange calm descended over Sofiya as she pulled out the single-shot pistol and took aim. The closest spiders were only ten yards away now. She fired. The bolt struck the planking in front of the spiders and slashed straight through. Flames roared up and a wave of heat rolled across the bridge. Black smoke belched into the sky. Sofiya threw up a hand and backed into Kalvis, half blinded by the heat and smoke.

  The bolt had destroyed the center of the bridge, leaving no clear way to cross. The dry planks of the pontoon bridge burned eagerly. A number of the spiders, caught in the blast, were flung into the River Neva, and they vanished beneath the current. Shouts and cries came up from the boats on the Neva, and the rivermen paddled frantically to stay clear of it. The remaining spiders backed away from the flames and skittered about the other side of the bridge uncertainly. It was clear they were unwilling—or unable—to jump the gap or to swim. There was no other bridge from Vasilyevsky Island to the mainland. The havoc spiders would be isolated. Other people lived or worked on the island, and Sofiya had to hope the spiders—and the machine that controlled them—would take no interest in them until the place could be evacuated by boat.

  The flames were consuming the bridge now, and eating their way toward Sofiya. The heat was intense, and the smoke clogged her throat. The burning bridge was already earning attention, though it was taking time in the aftermath of the spider invasion. Sofiya could be away before anyone managed to ask questions. With another glance at the confused spiders, she remounted Kalvis and galloped back to the circus.

  * * *

  He was the third one. His name was Nikolai. He was defective. But he had a mission. The signal in his head told him these things.

  “Dante,” he grunted. “Thad. Sofi-ya.”

  The s
ignal in his head and the wheels that spun in his body told him what to do. It never occurred to him to question either, and that, said the signal, was what made him defective. But he didn’t care. It didn’t occur to him to care. He climbed up the stairs and lurched into daylight. It was difficult to walk. The signal fought with his memory wheels to command his legs and arms, but he didn’t care about that, either. He was the third one. His name was Nikolai. He was defective. But he had a mission.

  “Sofi-ya,” he said again.

  The last of the havoc spiders scampered away, following the trail of blood. Nikolai followed after, getting practice with walking, then shambling into a run. Running was somehow easier. A few people—humans—poked their heads out of windows or doors as he passed and just as hastily withdrew when they caught sight of him. Nikolai arrived at the bridge in time to see it erupt in smoke and flame. Some of the spiders fell into the water, and Nikolai knew that would end their existence.

  Farther down the riverbank, he saw boats and rafts. Nikolai shambled down that way, followed by a number of spiders. The people at the boats all ran away when they saw him and the spiders, and he was able to get into a rowboat. Fourteen spiders got in with him. The oars took a little work, but soon he had the trick of it.

  His name was Nikolai. He was defective. But he had a mission.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Red headquarters was in chaos. Zygmund Padlewski and the other men rushed about in all directions, some with grim determination, others shouting and gesticulating at one another, and yet others busying themselves with boxes and crates. Flatbed carts and hand lorries were piled up at one of the tunnel entrances. The spiders—Mr. Griffin’s spiders—ran in all directions too, most of them carrying bits of equipment. The clockworkers had varying reactions to this. Two continued to work. Two sprawled on the floor in a drugged sleep. And two more had apparently decided to join in the fun and scamper about. Nikolai held Thad’s hand tightly at the top of the high tunnel Thad had used the first time he visited Mr. Griffin’s lair.