She tilted, trying to catch the last wisp of her dissipating thermal.
The second lictor was swinging his rifle around.
“Cristof!” Taya plunged, angling herself so that the stretch of her metal wings would be between the gunman and the outcaste. Her leg protested the twist needed to steer with her tailset, but the maneuver worked. The lictor started as she swept past him, and his shots went wild, lead pellets ricocheting off the walls and machinery around them.
She pulled out of her dive and saw Cristof backbeating hard, his feet aimed at the crosswalk where his brother stood. Alister remained motionless, watching his brother with an expression of sheer incredulity.
One of Cristof’s heavy boots hit the railing and he hovered, suspended, teetering.
Taya swooped over him.
Alister reached out and grabbed his brother’s keel, yanking him down to safety.
Cristof’s soles hit the iron crosswalk. He slipped an arm from the wingstruts and swept it upward, his fist slamming against Alister’s chin and snapping the decatur’s head back.
Taya turned and saw both lictors running toward the crosswalk to assist Alister. She circled wide, her wings teetering as she lost the current she’d been riding. Then she turned and aimed herself at the top of the crosswalk.
Her timing was almost perfect. She swept over the crosswalk just as the riflemen stepped onto it. They ducked, instinctively throwing their arms over their heads, and one of the air rifle barrels clipped the front edge of her left wing.
The impact tore the weapon from the man’s hands and sent it falling into the chasm, but it also threw her off-balance. She spun, struggling to right herself. The Great Engine loomed before her with sickening speed.
Backbeating as wildly as Cristof had a moment before, Taya jerked her ankles from the tailset and lifted her feet in front of her. Her thick boot soles hit one of the Great Engine’s giant spinning gears, hard. Her left foot slipped against a slick coating of machine oil, but the other got enough of a grip to push her back, away from the mechanism, as the gears’ teeth ground against each other. She snatched her feet away before they could be trapped. Sweat dripped down her face, running along the edges of her flight goggles.
She fought her way back up again.
Cristof was pointing his needle gun at Alister, but in his haste to subdue his brother, he’d forgotten to lock his wings up and out of the way. One of the floating wings had become tangled in the iron railing, holding him in place.
The lictor who’d lost his rifle drew a knife. With one hand, he grabbed Cristof’s trapped wing and yanked on it, trying to distract the exalted while he waited for a chance to use the blade. The other lictor pressed against the far railing, leaning back as he tried to aim his rifle at Cristof without endangering Alister. Taya swore. She’d missed the lictor who’d replaced his air cylinder.
Then she heard the hissing that signaled a new release of hot air from the steam engines below. Thanking the Lady, she caught the updraft and aimed herself at the crosswalk, starting high and angling down at a forty-five-degree angle. As soon as she was close, she swung herself around into landing position.
The rifleman looked up in time to see her boots slam into his chest. Already off-balance, the impact was enough to flip him backward over the rail, still clutching his rifle. He screamed as he plummeted.
Taya used the jar of hitting him to backbeat. She caught the rail with both feet and a jolt of pain went through her injured leg. She searched for the falling man, hoping to save him. She hadn’t meant—
“Look out!”
She heard Cristof’s shout at the same time she felt hands on her wing, yanking it down. She tumbled, her back slamming against the crosswalk. The impact wasn’t hard enough to knock the breath out of her — the ondium kept her light — but she was helpless as the knife-wielding lictor kicked her in the side, right beneath her keel.
Taya struggled to free her arms. The lictor leaned over and grabbed her harness straps, his blade flashing. She futilely tried to kick him away.
Over the lictor’s shoulder, she saw Cristof swinging his needler around.
The weapon spat, and long steel pins abruptly protruded from her attacker’s throat. Blood spurted as the man collapsed beside her. The knife fell from his fingers and slipped through the grillwork into the emptiness below.
Taya freed her arms and wiped the dead lictor’s blood off her face, her hands shaking.
“Nice work, Cris,” Alister said agreeably, then grabbed his brother with both hands. With a heave, he lifted Cristof by his harness and hauled him over the catwalk rail.
“Wait!” Cristof shouted, his loose wings floating around him. He tried to grab Alister’s forearms and missed.
Taya rolled to her feet, her own unlocked wings clattering against the metal railing as they floated upward. She stood just in time to see Alister drop his brother into the depths.
If Cristof shouted, his cry was lost in the roar of the Great Engine and the ugly grating and squealing of his metal wings rattling over the guardrail as he fell.
Taya threw herself forward, leaning over the edge of the railing. She had one boot wedged in the grille, ready to jump, when Alister grabbed her around the waist. She twisted, yanking at his wrists.
“Easy, little swan! He’ll be all right.” Alister picked her up and pivoted, planting her on the small platform next to the Engine. “The worst he’ll suffer is a broken arm or leg.”
“You bastard!” Taya kicked and ducked. Alister cursed as a floating wing feather cut his cheek. He shoved her against the Engine.
Taya hit the Engine’s ondium panel and turned, putting her back against it. Pain burned up the back of her leg, and her tailset scraped and flexed against the catwalk. She kicked it up behind her. Her wings floated at her sides.
Alister frowned, dabbing a drop of blood from his face.
The hem of his robe was covered in dirt, and a few leaves jutted out from the golden hoops and clasps that were slipping out of his once-ornate hairstyle. Gold glittered on his hands, but his fine manicure had been destroyed.
Taya looked down, through the open mesh floor, and saw the receding mass of metal that she was sure was Cristof and his floating, broken wings. Suddenly her anger was replaced by convulsive shivering. Bile rose in her throat.
“How could you do that?”
“I wouldn’t have thrown him over if I didn’t think he’d survive,” Alister chided her. “You did a fine job of counterweighting him.”
“He thought you were dead!”
“Oh.” Alister blinked. “That.” He looked ashamed of himself. “Was he upset?”
“Of course he was!” Taya felt the Engine thrumming behind her, rattling her wings. She glanced to one side, looking for an escape route — some way to help Cristof. Alister shifted his weight to stand in front of her.
“I would really prefer you didn’t retrieve him. He’s safer down there, where he won’t feel obliged to stop me.”
Still trembling with reaction, Taya wiped her palms on her pants legs.
“What if he’s swept toward a gear? The air currents in here are all over the place.”
Alister glanced down, uncertainly. Then he shook his head.
“He’ll be fine. And if you rescue him, you’ll keep bothering me and I might have to hurt you.”
“He’s afraid of heights!”
“I know.” The exalted gazed at her, his green eyes wide. “I was astounded when he leaped down to save you. Or was he simply leaping down to hit me? Hard to say. My brother plays his cards close to the chest.”
“He’s not the only one,” Taya said, bitterly. How far down was it to the floor, anyway? The fall would be slow, because of all the ondium Cristof wore. Was a gradual descent a blessing or a curse for someone who was afraid of heights?
“What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Nothing that will harm Ondinium, I assure you.” The exalted held out a hand. “My swan queen. I’m sorry. I truly regret any pain I may have caused you or my family.”
Taya ignored his hand and slid her arms into her loose wings. Alister tensed. Realizing there was no escaping him, she simply locked the wings high and pulled her arms free again. She’d have to wait for an opening.
Her calf felt like someone had laid a hot iron across it. She hoped it wouldn’t stiffen up before she needed to vault past him.
“What about the pain you caused Pins’ family?” she asked. “Her daughter found her body. You’re the one who killed her, aren’t you?”
“She was a criminal. I didn’t do anything the lictors wouldn’t have done, eventually.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.” Taya recoiled. “I liked you. I was even thinking about sleeping with you!”
“Really? How flattering.” He smiled, stepping closer. “I still like you, Taya Swan. You never fail to impress me. When you came swooping down out of nowhere like a silver bird, you took my breath away. You’re an example of everything that’s right about Ondinium.”
“Is that so?” Taya pulled herself as tall as she could. “Then why are you trying to destroy it?”
“I’m not destroying it. I’m fixing it.” He reached out and caressed her cheek. “I’d like to convince you and Cristof not to tell anyone I was here. With your cooperation, nobody will hear about this, and the city will be better off. I won’t cause any harm. I’m just going to update a few programs to make everyone’s life a little safer and more predictable.”
She turned her face away. “Clockwork Heart was meant to circumvent security, wasn’t it? It was never a marriage program at all.”
“Actually, it can do both. All I need to do is switch out a few sets of cards.”
“Some marriage program. It matched up Lars and Kyle.”
Alister laughed.
“They ran it on themselves? That’s wonderful. I would have loved to have seen Lars’ face when he saw the results. I’d guessed about Kyle, but…”
Taya shoved him in the chest, forcing him to take a step backward.
“They ran it in your memory!” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “They held a wake for you!”
“That was thoughtful of them.” He seemed unperturbed by her violence. “Listen, my swan. We can all be friends again. You and Cristof will find me, thrown clear of the wreckage. I’ll be shaken up, feverish…” he touched his face ruefully. “Scratched and bruised. You’ll be heroes, and everyone will be happy to have me back. Is Cristof in trouble over the bomb?”
“Yes! How did you—”
“I’ll clear his name. One of the lictors you’ve just killed must have tampered with the clock while it was sitting in my office overnight. They were saboteurs, stopped just in time.”
“Cristof will never lie for you.”
Alister started to speak, then paused.
“Well. Maybe not. I hadn’t realized he was working for the lictors until you told me about Pins. That was a real surprise, although it explained a lot. Still, we’re family.” He looked wistful. “Cris and I have gone through a lot together.”
“You just threw him over the railing!”
“Oh, for the Lady’s sake, I wouldn’t have done it if I’d thought he’d get hurt. I’m sure he’ll understand. He loves Ondinium as much as I do, although he shows it differently.” He caught her eyes. “It’s convincing you that worries me, my swan. What do I have to do to prove I’m not your enemy?”
Despite the heat, Taya felt ice crawl down her spine. Her calf was starting to throb in time to the Engine’s pounding.
Behind Alister, a lone bead of blood dripped down from the rifleman’s needle-punctured neck, falling through the crosswalk’s grille floor and into the depths.
“I’m not going to lie for you, either.”
“I could guarantee you a position in the diplomatic corps.”
“I don’t want it badly enough to protect a murderer.”
“You don’t even know what I’m doing. I— did you hear something?”
Taya listened, but all she could hear was the Engine’s roar, its vibrations making her wing feathers jingle.
“No.”
“This place. A man can’t hear himself think.” Alister reached down and picked up a tin punch card that had fallen to the crosswalk floor. Taya tensed to kick him while he was looking down, then flinched as a jolt of pain ran through her calf. The decatur straightened, oblivious to her aborted action. “All I’m doing is setting up a few permanent subroutines. I’m not stealing any data, and I’m not sabotaging the Engine.”
“What kind of subroutines?”
“Iterative simulations. They’ll need regular checking and adjustment, which is why I need Heart in place. I can’t afford to waste my time guessing the Labyrinth Code every time I need to run some cards.”
“You stole the backup program.”
“I borrowed it,” Alister corrected her. “I was planning to return it. Unfortunately, losing the last few cards to Cris rendered months of effort completely worthless. That’s why I had to do it this way, instead.” He sounded proud of himself. “However, I replaced all the cards I bought from Pins. Nobody will ever know they were stolen. Well, they’ll know about the twenty-five Cris obtained, but we can say the lictor who set the bomb was the same one smuggling out the cards. This could be flawless, if you cooperate.”
Taya looked down at the wire-mesh platform beneath her feet, wondering if she should lie and agree to work with him so she could fly down to find Cristof. She couldn’t see any sign of him.
He’s all right. I counterweighted him well. He might be terrified, but he’s safe.
She looked up and took a deep breath.
“What kind of simulations do you want to run?”
“Immigration, crime, breeding… I want to make sure Ondinium stays healthy over the long term. The ideal population ratio is ten to five to two to one, plebeian to cardinal to icarus to exalted. But Ondinium’s always been open to immigration, and my research indicates that we’re starting to accumulate too many plebeian castes. That’s been causing an increase in poverty, violence, and crime.”
Taya nodded, reserving judgment. So far he hadn’t said anything she hadn’t heard before from self-styled social critics.
Alister smiled as if her nod had been an endorsement.
“I plan to run the simulations on a regular schedule to calculate the city’s ideal annual immigration and childbirth rates.”
“And you couldn’t have done that openly?”
“The Council has a strong conservative element when it comes to relying on simulations to inform public policy. Look at the fuss they kicked up over Clockwork Heart, and all it was going to do was ensure stable marriages and healthy, caste-appropriate children. Who could argue with that?”
“I can. A program can’t tell you how well a marriage will work or whether a child will be ‘caste-appropriate.’ What does that mean, anyway? I’m completely different from my sister, and you’re completely different from Cristof.”
“You’re being distracted by superficial differences. I’m looking at deep behavioral similarities. Now, I grant you, nothing’s guaranteed, but if I can control enough of the variables, Clockwork Heart should be able to guarantee satisfactory statistical likelihoods.” His eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. “Logically matched marriages and rationally directed childbearing programs can help Ondinium raise a stronger and smarter generation of citizens.”
“Childbearing programs?” A fresh wave of dizziness overtook her and she leaned on the Engine, trying to collect her thoughts.
“Certainly. Mareaux has been breeding superior horses, cattle, and dogs for
centuries, and they’re nothing but uneducated farmers.”
“Wait.” Taya frowned. “You want to breed people like farm animals? That’s insane.”
“You’re grossly simplifying the matter.”
“We’re reborn according to the Lady’s judgment. You can’t breed for caste.”
“Yes, yes.” He waved a hand. “And there will always be a certain amount of movement between castes due to the social and environmental variables of individual upbringing. Those issues are too difficult to control, which is why we established the Great Examination to reassign children who don’t fit their birth caste. But as a society we can take logical, progressive steps to improve the quality of the bodies into which our spirits are reborn. It’s not a matter of breeding better people; it’s a matter of breeding stronger castes.”
“What if Clockwork Heart recommends a cross-caste marriage?”
“It won’t. I built in caste as a selection parameter. After all, the goal is to strengthen desirable caste traits, not dilute them. The Lady gave us intelligence so that we can improve ourselves as we work toward our final, perfect rebirth.”
“And the Lady also gave us free will to choose who we love.” The pain in her leg was growing worse. “What about Viera and Caster? Would Clockwork Heart have let them marry? Would your childbearing program have come up with Ariq?”
“I’m sure it would have.”
“Cristof said both of you objected to the marriage.” Taya leaned over and felt the back of her left leg. Her flight suit had a ragged rip in it, and she felt something damp. She pulled her hand back.
A thin smear of blood. Just what she’d been afraid of.
“We—” Alister’s eyes fell to her hand. “You’re hurt.”
“One of your men shot me.”
“I thought they’d missed.” Alister stepped forward and knelt, examining her calf. Taya flinched and braced herself on his shoulder. “It looks like a bullet went in and out. You’re bleeding into your suit padding. Give me your knife. I want a better look.”
She reached up with her right hand and pulled the utility knife off her harness. Alister’s back was protected by layers of silk, but his bare neck was vulnerable, draped with loops of long, gold-wrapped black hair.
Clockwork Heart Page 25
