Rebel Mechanics

by Shanna Swendson

  At first, I thought it must be my imagination, or perhaps the shadows of trees stirred by the night breeze, because I soon lost sight of the figures I thought I’d seen. But then they crept forward as the payroll boat tied up behind the fort. That seemed odd. I would have thought anyone meeting that boat would come fully armed and show themselves.

  I leaned as far forward as I dared and adjusted the binoculars, trying to bring more detail into view. The figures on the ground stepped out of hiding, and I cried out in dismay, for I recognized them—or, rather, I recognized their masks. The Masked Bandits were stealing the military payroll.

  IN WHICH I ASSIST ROBBERS AND REVOLUTIONARIES

  “It’s the Bandits!” I cried out, then wished I’d kept silent when Alec rushed over and took the binoculars from me. While he scanned the ground below, I stared in frustration at the nearly featureless darkness that was all I could see without the binoculars.

  “A robbery? Outta sight!” Mick enthused.

  “Wait, are they using magic to freeze the couriers?” Alec muttered, frowning through the binoculars.

  “Of course they are. They’re magisters,” I said, so distracted by worry that I spoke without thinking.

  Alec pulled the binoculars away from his eyes to stare quizzically at me. “The Masked Bandits are magisters? How do you know?”

  It was too late to take it back, so I explained, “They once robbed a train I was on, and they used magic then.”

  “But they steal from the government and give the money to commoners. The shop that makes my machine parts would have been closed if it hadn’t been for their help. They’ve also contributed money to the cause. Sometimes they even help people pay their taxes.”

  “Really?” That explained why someone like Lord Henry would commit crime, and I felt giddy with relief to know that he wasn’t wicked.

  “Our movement would have collapsed without them. But why would magisters go against their own people?”

  “They’re not all evil. They’re like anyone else. There are good and there are bad.”

  I waited to see how he’d respond, if he’d accept that truth—and possibly accept who I was—or argue against it, but he merely went back to watching the events below. I anxiously chewed my lower lip. Oh, Henry, I thought. No wonder he’d been so tense at dinner. But it was such an enormous risk, going right into the British military stronghold.

  With a groan of frustration, I snatched Mick’s binoculars away from him. He protested, but I ignored him. We were almost directly over the fort now, so I had to move around the ship to keep my eyes on events at the pier. The bandits had come out of their hiding places and were prying the chest from the hands of the entranced couriers.

  I thought the lead bandit must be Henry. He was taller than the others and his bearing looked familiar, like the way he carried himself when he forgot to be clumsy. Two of the bandits carried the chest toward their boat. The couriers remained totally still as the remaining bandits—including the one I thought was Henry—slipped an identical-looking chest into their hands. Then they ran off toward the boat, leaving the couriers behind with the fake chest.

  It looked like the bandits would get away with it and the couriers wouldn’t realize anything had happened until the fake chest was opened, but before the bandits reached the boat, a soldier came out of the fort and spied the motionless couriers. A second later, he called out an alarm loud enough for us to hear in the airship. Before I could see what happened next, Mick snatched the binoculars away from me. “I want to see!” he said.

  “Did no one teach you manners?” I huffed.

  “Nope, not at all,” he replied, without moving the binoculars from his eyes.

  I turned to Alec, who was also watching intently. “We’ve got to help them!” I cried.

  “What do you propose we do?” Alec asked me.

  “We could create a diversion.”

  “And get ourselves caught?”

  “Just enough to lead them in the wrong direction until the bandits can escape.” I scrambled desperately for an idea, well aware that we were running out of time. Something from one of Rollo’s discourses on airships struck me. “What kind of ballast do you carry?”

  “Some sacks of sand and small rocks.”

  “We trickle a little behind us as we head into the city. The noise should distract the soldiers. It might sound like someone running away in that direction.”

  Alec glanced at Everett. “It’s your ship,” he said.

  “We could stand to lose a little ballast,” Everett said with a shrug and a grin.

  “Mick!” Alec ordered.

  “Aye, aye, sir!” the boy responded.

  I grabbed the binoculars from him as he ran to get a sack. Soldiers rushed out of the fort, but they were still milling about in front while the couriers, who must have come out of their trance, gesticulated wildly. The couriers didn’t seem to have seen which way the bandits went. Henry was almost to the boat, but if the soldiers moved even a little, they’d see him.

  Everett steered us toward the city, and Mick dropped a small rock over the side of the basket, about fifty feet away from the gathered soldiers. They all reacted, glancing around in search of the source of the sound. Then Mick let a trickle of pebbles fall, dropping them in a rhythm like running footsteps and the soldiers ran in that direction. Our plan seemed to be working. No one had gone to the sea side of the fort, and now the boat was safely away.

  Mick spilled a little more ballast, and I went to the other side of the airship to watch the boat. It rounded a bend, and then its lights came on, so it looked like just another magister’s yacht on a nighttime pleasure cruise around the island. I suspected that if anyone boarded that boat, they’d find a group of wealthy young men much the worse for drink, possibly with a card game in progress. “They’re away,” I announced, letting out a long sigh of relief.

  “And we should be away, too,” Alec said, signaling for Mick to stop dropping ballast. “We don’t want to give them a reason to look up.” He peered down at the soldiers, who were fanning out to search the nearby streets. “I’m sure some of them are sleeping, but they seem to have almost everyone who isn’t resting out on the streets. This is a small contingent.” He lowered his binoculars and looked at me. “I don’t suppose the governor mentioned which troops would be arriving, or when?”

  “You got my message?”

  “We did, and many thanks for that.”

  “He didn’t give specifics. I got the impression he’d only just then received the news.”

  “Keep your ears open, and let us know right away if you hear anything.”

  “That’s getting more difficult these days. Could you put a telegraph wire near my window and teach me to send messages? Then I could send you information without any of us having to move around the city.”

  He shook his head. “Too dangerous. Anyone who’s tapped in can hear everything, and we don’t want information that sensitive going out on the wires.”

  “It’s safer to stick it in a hole in the wall?”

  “Then it’s not so obvious who’s sending it.” He smiled at me. “I trust in your ingenuity, Verity.”

  “The battery’s running low, Alec,” Everett called from the controls.

  “Then we’d best get back to roost.”

  For the rest of the journey home, Alec stood with his arm around my shoulders and pointed out streets and landmarks. I almost forgot about revolutions and robberies as we soared through the night. I had the wind in my hair, air beneath my feet, and a good man at my side. I laughed out loud for the sheer joy of it.

  The voyage came to an end all too soon as Everett guided the airship to the rear of the Lyndon mansion. Alec opened the gate on the side of the basket and lowered the tail of the ladder. I took off my goggles and handed them to him, then turned to wave farewell to Mick and Everett. “Thank you for bringing me along!” I said.

  “This one’s got the makings of an aviator,” Everett said.


  “I do enjoy flying.”

  Alec helped me over the side and knelt to hold me steady until my footing on the ladder was secure. “Hold on to the ladder,” he cautioned.

  “Thank you for a lovely evening,” I said, smiling up at him. “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced—aside from the steam engine, obviously.” Impulsively, I stretched upward and kissed his lips.

  He returned my kiss, and when he pulled away, he said, “Just wait, there’s more to show you.” He started the mechanism that lowered the ladder and sent me away from him. The ladder stopped in front of my window, and he started to climb down to assist me, but I waved him back.

  With one elbow crooked around the ladder, I reached for the window, caught the edge, and used that to pull myself closer to the building. I got one foot solidly on the windowsill, took a deep breath, and leaned forward into the room while I stepped off with the other foot and released the ladder, grabbing the other edge of the window for balance. When I was steady, I turned to wave at the airship’s crew while they pulled the ladder up. I stood in the window, watching until the ship blended into the night sky and disappeared from view.

  I stepped down onto my chair, then turned and shut the window. I felt horribly earthbound as I climbed down from the chair onto the floor. Once I was back in the ordinariness of my bedroom, I suddenly felt like I’d been up far too late. I removed and hung up my coat, took off my boots and stockings, and climbed into bed.

  My last thought before I fell asleep was to wonder if Henry had made it home yet.

  * * *

  I woke the next morning with the sense that I’d dreamed the entire adventure. I’d certainly flown often enough in my dreams. The only tangible evidence that the night before had been at all unusual was a pair of stockings left lying beside my boots on the floor, which I knew hadn’t been there when I went to bed the first time, and the chair that still sat under the window.

  Lord Henry wasn’t at breakfast when I went downstairs, and I couldn’t help but worry. Had he been caught in spite of our efforts, or had he merely had a later night than I had? When he appeared in the breakfast room a few minutes later, I nearly forgot myself and ran to hug him. He looked much the worse for wear, with bleary, bloodshot eyes and a greenish tint to his skin, but there were no visible wounds. “Miss Newton,” he greeted me tersely before asking for tea.

  “Aren’t you feeling well this morning?” I asked.

  “Do I look that bad? No, don’t answer. I know I do. That headache plagued me all night.”

  “I will try to keep Olive quiet this morning, then.”

  He gave me a rueful smile. “That’s kind of you, but I have business out of town. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you alone tonight. If the children misbehave, think of whatever dire punishment you deem appropriate, tell them I said that’s what I would do, and I’ll carry it out upon my return.”

  “I’m sure they’ll give me no trouble at all.” I wanted to ask where he was going, but I doubted that would be a proper question for a governess to ask her employer, even one as friendly as mine. I suspected his business had something to do with the rather large sum of money he’d appropriated the night before.

  I seldom saw him during the day since he usually stayed in his study when he was home, so I didn’t miss his presence until dinnertime, when a referee for the usual arguments would have been nice. I let the children squabble while I daydreamed about flying, then I assigned reading to the elder two while I sent Olive to bed early.

  Lord Henry hadn’t returned by Thursday afternoon when Flora and I went to visit Lady Elinor. Daylight made a remarkable change to her room. It had seemed cavernous at night, but with the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows the room was cheerful. Flora gave her aunt an obligatory greeting, but Elinor’s focus was on me. “It is so good of you to come, Verity,” she said. She bade us be seated, and servants brought an elaborate tea, with sandwiches, scones, and cakes. “I’m sure I’m ruining your dinner, but you dine so early. I refuse to adjust my schedule merely because Henry prefers to keep country hours. Verity, you may pour.”

  While I poured and passed around teacups, Elinor said, “I understand from my father that I knew your parents, Verity. I remember your mother. I was just a child then, and I’d lost my mother a few years earlier. I was quite the little duckling, following around anyone I thought might make a good replacement, and I attached myself to yours. I am truly sorry for your loss. You were very fortunate to have her.”

  “Yes, I was,” I said.

  “But enough of that! We have a book to discuss. Flora dearest, what did you think of it?”

  “I thought it was preposterous,” Flora said with a sniff. “No magister is going to marry the governess.” She said the last word with a sneer and a pointed glance at me.

  “But it was implied that Jane was from a magister family,” Elinor said. “She’d merely been sent away to an ordinary school by her uncaring aunt.”

  “But if she had powers, why would she be working as a governess?” Flora asked.

  Elinor smiled and said, “Not all magisters are as wealthy as we are, but perhaps I was letting my imagination run away with me. Being a governess must not be nearly as romantic as it is in novels, is it, Verity?”

  Before I could respond, Flora rolled her eyes and said, “She works for Henry. Even if she were a magister, that wouldn’t be at all romantic.”

  “Henry isn’t that bad, though I will agree that he’s not exactly a romantic hero,” Elinor said with a laugh.

  Without thinking, I leaped to his defense, blurting, “I could imagine him being quite dashing, under the right circumstances.” They both stared at me, and I felt my face flaming. No matter what I said, my blush would make it sound like a weak denial of true feelings, and I didn’t dare give the real reason I knew Henry wasn’t as boring as they thought. Flora’s glare chilled me, but Elinor gave me a little smile before putting the book aside and saying, “Enough about the book. We should discuss the truly important topics. There’s to be a ball!”

  “A ball?” Flora said, her eyes lighting up as she completely forgot about me.

  “Yes! With all those soldiers coming in—they’re bringing over the Third Division from England, which should arrive this weekend, and the Special Brigade from India, since they have experience with insurrections—Father feels he should host a ball to welcome the officers. It will be two weeks from yesterday. That’s not much warning, but it’s not meant to be a grand affair, merely an impromptu entertainment.”

  “Will I be invited?” Flora asked, wringing her hands anxiously.

  “Of course, you goose. You’re the governor’s granddaughter. And with all those officers about, I’m certain you’ll have to attend, as well, Verity. Magisters seldom enter the military, so I’m afraid few of the officers will be appropriate for you, Flora. They do make good dancing partners, though. But, Verity, you might find a husband. No one ranking below major, of course. You’ll want some polish and seasoning.”

  “I’m not in the market for a husband,” I said.

  “Why ever not?” Elinor turned to Flora with a conspiratorial wink. “Do you suppose she already has a suitor?”

  “She does seem to go out quite often,” Flora said slyly. “Olive said she met a boy in the park once.”

  “Oh, really? Verity, do tell.”

  I would have preferred not to answer, but this seemed my best opportunity to recover from my earlier faux pas about Henry. “I do have a friend I see from time to time. He’s a student at the university, and he’s quite brilliant.”

  “Even if you do have a suitor, it will be good if he finds himself in competition with a dashing young officer. He’ll have to work harder to win you.” Elinor leaned back against her pillows and picked up a lace fan. “I don’t know what having all those soldiers in the city will do to the civic order. Most of them are merely well-disciplined and well-dressed ruffians, if you ask me. There are far too many soldiers to
fit in the barracks, even on Governor’s Island. I hear they’re commandeering the student housing around the university. That area seems to be where the troublemakers are, so I suppose that’s a good enough plan. Though your friend might be inconvenienced, Verity.”

  Flora didn’t give her a chance to say anything more about the military plans. She directed the conversation back to the ball itself. “It won’t be a costume ball, will it? Those are so tiresome.”

  “Why would we have a costume ball when all the men will be wearing uniforms? Any man can be handsome in a uniform.” Elinor smiled at me. “And now Verity is wondering how I know so much when I never leave my bed. I maintain a circle of friends. It’s amazing how readily people share things with someone they don’t think is in communication with anyone else in society.”

  “Their coats are red, so I should make sure my gown doesn’t clash with red,” Flora mused, off in her own world of modistes and fashion plates. “I would hate to form an unattractive picture while I’m dancing.” Then she gasped. “Henry will allow me to go, won’t he?”

  “He’ll have to come himself. This is one occasion when I doubt Father will allow him to plead illness—or any other excuse. You are, however, on your own when it comes to persuading him that you need a new ball gown. He’ll insist that since the ball is to welcome newcomers, none of them will have seen any of your old gowns, and I’m afraid I can’t disagree. Don’t you have a lovely white gown? That would show well against the red uniforms. Since there’s hardly any time, you certainly wouldn’t be the only one without a new gown.”

  I didn’t have any ball gowns at all. I wondered if I was expected, as a chaperone, to dress for the ball. I doubted I could count on Lord Henry’s knowledge of society’s rules for that. I thought I might be able to consult Lady Elinor on the subject, but I didn’t want to sound like I was angling to get a new gown. I was sure Flora would interpret it that way, no matter what I said.

  I could hardly believe it when Lady Elinor then said, “As it is, I hope there will be enough time for Verity to get a gown made. The invitations haven’t gone out yet, so you’ll have a head start with the modiste. I’ll make an appointment for you with one I know. You may have to go to her studio as all these travel restrictions will make life difficult for her. She’ll know what’s appropriate for a chaperone these days. In my time, they were all bitter old hags, not lovely young ladies like you.”