Clockwork Heart

by Dru Pagliassotti

  Gwen snorted. “Send one of the neighborhood boys to hire a hack, you maskless ninny. They’ll run messages for a penny or two.”

  Cristof scowled, then turned and headed outside.

  “Have him ask for Gregor and Bolt!” Taya shouted. Cristof nodded, shoving through the door.

  As soon it shut behind him, Taya turned on Gwen.

  “You enjoyed that,” she said, accusingly. Gwen gave her an innocent look, then burst into raucous laughter.

  “Oh, I did. You both looked so disappointed! If only you could have seen yourselves! Absolutely priceless!”

  Taya tried to resist, but then she began giggling, too, until both of them were reduced to helpless laughter and snorts, glancing at the door to make sure Cristof wasn’t going to come back in and find them like that.

  “That’s not fair,” Taya said at last, wiping her eyes. “I like him.”

  “Clear proof that love is blind,” Gwen retorted. “What in the world would a nice girl like you see in that squawking crow?”

  “He’s brave, and honest, and intelligent—”

  “—bony, bad-tempered, poorly dressed, outcaste—”

  “Oh, Gwen! He’s not perfect, but … the perfect one turned out to be a murderer.”

  “Hmph.” Her landlady sighed. “You know I’m only giving him a hard time because I can. But I worry about you, Taya. You’re flying in such dangerous skies, with all these criminals and spies and bombs…”

  “It’s all over now.”

  “Is it?” Gwen looked dubious. “And what will you do when that awful decatur is executed and your crow puts on his mask again? It would be one thing if I thought you were just having a fling, but I know you better than that. I don’t want you to get your heart broken when reality catches up with you.”

  “Reality.” Taya straightened her shoulders. “I can out-fly reality any day.”

  “Not even the fastest icarus can do that, dear.” Gwen shook her head. “Well, enjoy yourself while you can, even if it is with an outcaste. And don’t forget to take your pain medicine with you.”

  Taya nodded, grabbing her other crutch and limping up the stairs.

  Cristof’s mood had improved by the time they were settled into the hack. The message boy had found Gregor, and the cheerful coachman greeted Taya with enthusiasm and Cristof with respect.

  Cristof set his tool bag on the floor and stretched his legs across the narrow gap between their two facing seats.

  “Where are we going?” Taya asked. “If you have work to do, I don’t mind getting lunch on my own. I didn’t mean to invite myself like that.”

  “No? I thought we’d go to that foreign restaurant you like. The Cabisi place. I never tried it the other night.”

  She smiled. “You have time?”

  “My suspension is still in effect. This time they took away my lictor’s papers to ensure it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I don’t know what I’m going to do after this, anyway.” He looked out the window, then flinched and looked back. The hack was making its way down Cliff Road, revealing a sweeping vista and long drop. “I’ll never be able to work as a spy again.”

  “You don’t sound too upset about it.”

  He absently tapped his fingers on his tool bag. “I’ll find something else to do.”

  She hesitated, but the opening was there, and she had to take it.

  “Will you start living like an exalted again?”

  “No.” His answer was fast and firm. “I can’t go back to a mask and robes. Could you go back to working in a factory, after living like an icarus?”

  “But that’s different. I’d be giving up my freedom if I did that,” she protested.

  “And I’d be giving up my freedom if I covered myself. You have no idea. It’s not just the public restrictions, although those are bad enough. It’s all the other rules and traditions and expectations. No … the Lady made a mistake when she incarnated me as an exalted. I’m not ready for it.”

  “Maybe she wanted you in the caste for a reason,” Taya suggested. “To make it more honest, or to shake up traditions, or something like that. Maybe it’s your duty to live like an exalted.”

  “Do you want me to go back?”

  “No!” She looked at him and saw that he was serious, so she became serious, too. “But I want you to do what’s right. If you have to go back to help your family, then you should.”

  “My family doesn’t need my help. Not the kind of help that requires me to put on a mask, anyway,” he said, forestalling her protest. “Besides, it’s too early to think about returning to Primus. We don’t even know what’s going to happen yet.”

  Taya glanced at him. It was clear what was going to happen, and they both knew it. But she didn’t argue.

  “All right.” She made an attempt to lighten the mood. “I was wondering what you might look like with long hair and jewels, though.”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “I was.”

  “I mean, I look ridiculous.”

  “Well, somebody needs to do something about your hair. You have to stop cutting it yourself. Even that little sweep girl of yours could do a better job.”

  “Jessica? She’d cut off my ears.”

  “She was cute. ‘Clockite.’ I like that.”

  “She’s a pest. I can’t get rid of her.” He sounded put out. “For some reason my shop fascinates children.”

  “Did you show them the flying birds?”

  He muttered something. She laughed.

  “I don’t know why you can’t just be nice to them.”

  “If I’m nice, they’ll come around even more often than they do now, and I’d never get any work done.”

  “I see. So by that logic, if I decide I don’t want you hanging around—”

  He gave her an alarmed look, and Taya remembered that he wasn’t confident enough for that kind of teasing.

  “—then I’ll have to suggest something unpleasant, like taking another flight together.”

  “Yes, that might scare me away.”

  “Too bad. I liked flying with you.” She put on a thoughtful expression. “I liked landing with you even better.”

  “I am aware that the correct response to that comment would be to swing across to sit next to you,” he said, sounding pained, “but if I tried, I’d hit my head on the ceiling, or fall on top of you, or do something equally inept that would embarrass us both.”

  She laughed. “You’re thinking too much again.”

  “Thinking isn’t a habit I’m likely to break.”

  Taya shook her head, exasperated, as the hack rattled to a halt and Gregor sang out the name of the restaurant.

  “Allow me.” Cristof unfolded himself first, exiting and setting his tool bag and her crutches onto the cobbles. He helped Taya slide out. The maneuver was somewhat inelegant as she tried to avoid putting too much weight on her wounded leg.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, steadying her.

  “Just cold.” She started to lift her hand to fasten the cloak-clasp around her neck, only to find that he wasn’t letting go. “What—”

  He cupped her cheek with one hand and kissed her.

  Startled, Taya froze. Then she collected herself, wrapped her arms around his neck, and lifted herself up to return the kiss.

  She felt him shiver as he lowered his head again, his lips soft as they brushed against hers. She closed her eyes, surprised by how content she was to be held by him as her cloak slipped off her shoulders and passers-by whistled.

  When they separated a second time, Taya lifted his glasses from his face. The lenses were steamed opaque.

  “That was nice,” she murmured, smiling up at him. The autumn wind stirred his
hair, and he wore an expression she didn’t think she’d ever seen before. She touched his lips with her free hand. “Why, Cris, you’re positively handsome when you smile.”

  Gregor cleared his throat from the driver’s bench.

  “Maybe you’d like a tour of Secundus, you two?” he asked, fighting to keep a poker face. “Take me a couple hours to make a complete circuit of the sector, most like.”

  Cristof looked up, blinking as he tried to focus without his glasses.

  “Um— not today.” His hands slid from Taya’s waist. “Here—” He reached into his greatcoat for his pocketbook.

  “Oh, you needn’t worry yourself about that, Exalted.” Gregor’s eyes crinkled with humor. “I weren’t going to charge you anyway, not the city’s heroes. You two have a nice lunch, then.” He saluted them with his coachman’s whip and shook the reins.

  “Thank you, Gregor!” Taya shouted, as the hack rattled away. He waved.

  When she looked back, Cristof’s smile had shifted back to his more familiar mocking expression.

  “What?” She faced him and carefully slid his glasses back on.

  “You make friends with everyone, don’t you?”

  “It’s better than making enemies.”

  He nudged the frames back down to the right angle. “Interesting concept.”

  “By the way, I think you’ve reached ‘rarely’ now.”

  “What comes after that?”

  “‘Sometimes.’”

  “A new goal.”

  The restaurant seated them by the windows. Since Cristof didn’t know anything about Cabisi food, Taya suggested a few dishes, which led them into a discussion of her interest in foreign lands and the diplomatic corps exams. He listened with a grave air, asking probing questions.

  They were halfway through lunch when Taya heard her name called. She twisted in her seat.

  Lars stood in the restaurant doorway, looking uneasy. She gestured, and he lumbered past the other diners, shaking his shaggy hair back over his shoulders.

  “Taya, I’m glad to see you. I’m looking for Kyle. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

  “No.” Taya set down her spoon, hearing the concern in his voice. “Why?”

  “What’s wrong?” Cristof asked, his face settling into its usual frown. Lars gave the exalted a startled look, noticing him for the first time, then bowed, palm against his forehead.

  “Exalted, have you seen him?” the big man asked, plaintively. “He talked to the lictors yesterday about Alister and Clockwork Heart.”

  Cristof shook his head. “He didn’t talk to me. What happened?”

  “He — the prototype—” Lars grimaced. “We’ve got a problem, Exalted. You’re a lictor, right? Or something like that?”

  Cristof looked across the table at Taya. “Maybe we should take this outside. Do you want to wait here?”

  “No.” She pushed her bowl away and reached for her crutches. “Let’s go.”

  “I didn’t want to notify the lictors, not until I was sure what happened,” Lars said nervously as they huddled close together outside the restaurant. “I tried Kyle’s flat, but nobody answered, so I thought maybe he’d gone out for lunch, but—”

  “Lars!” Cristof’s voice was sharp. “Stop babbling.”

  The programmer’s mouth closed and he nodded.

  “Now. Why are you looking for Kyle?”

  Lars licked his lips. “The prototype engine. It’s missing.”

  Taya gave Cristof a swift look, and he returned her gaze, his expression grim. She knew they were both thinking the same thing.

  “That’s the new analytical engine?” she asked, turning her attention back to the programmer. “The one Alister was inspecting?”

  “Yes. It’s, um—” he gestured, at a loss for words. “It’s something brand new. Groundbreaking. I mean, it’s only duplicating the functionality of the Great Engine, but to do that on a human scale—”

  “When did you find out it was gone?” Cristof cut him off.

  “Maybe … two, three hours ago?” Lars sounded uncertain. “I couldn’t sleep, not with the news about Alister, so I decided to work. Nobody else was in the lab, but things had been moved, so I thought maybe one of us had curled up to take a nap in one of the other rooms. That happens, sometimes. I went looking and saw scratches and scuff marks, so I knew something wasn’t right—”

  “Scratches?”

  “On the wall. You know how you mark up the walls when you move something big? I saw these long black scrapes and knew something was wrong.”

  “How did you know it was the engine?” Cristof pulled on his coat, his grey eyes fixed on Lars’ face.

  “I looked. There are four rooms down there, and we’ve got keys to them all. I just started opening doors.” Lars looked ill. “And it’s gone. The whole engine. It must have taken all night to dismantle.”

  “The team wasn’t at the University last night?”

  “No.” He shifted from foot to foot. “The news, you know. That Alister was alive but under arrest, that he’d been caught trying to sabotage the Great Engine— we couldn’t believe it. We were at PT’s, reading every paper as soon as it came out, trying to parse out what had happened. None of us could think about writing code while all those rumors were flying around.”

  “PT’s?” Taya asked, puzzled.

  “The Pickled Thalassonaut. It’s a programmer bar,” Lars explained. “Every programmer in the city was there. And then the lictors came in and started asking questions, and they took us down to the station… it was just too much. I don’t think a single card got punched in the city yesterday.”

  Cristof was scowling.

  “You’re on suspension,” Taya reminded him. “And you know who they’re going to suspect.”

  “It couldn’t have been Alister. He was in jail last night.”

  “Did he really…” Lars looked at Taya.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. He confessed.”

  “Lady.” He shook his head, looking like a heartbroken bear. “I just can’t believe it.”

  She patted his arm, watching Cristof. She could sense the gears turning as he tried to think of some way to take the case, but the frustration on his face showed that he wasn’t having any luck.

  “Everyone on the team had the key to the room?” she asked.

  “Yes. Including Alister, of course, and the engineering team in the College of Science and Technology who built the engine. Probably an administrator or two, as well, but you’d need to ask the dean about that.”

  “How many of them visited the engine on a regular basis?”

  “Just Alister and the chief engineer. They were still testing it. I don’t think it had run anything more complex than some simple mathematics programs.”

  “How hard is it to dismantle an analytical engine?”

  He grimaced.

  “If you want to use it again, you have to know exactly what you’re doing. You can’t just take a piece of complex machinery like that apart with a hammer and a wrench.”

  “Who on your team could do it?” Cristof asked, looking up.

  Lars took a deep breath.

  “Me. Kyle. Emelie. Vic and Izzy aren’t mechanics.”

  “Have you looked for anyone on the team besides Kyle?”

  “No … he’s the boss. I wanted to tell him, first. If this… it’s bad enough that Alister’s in jail. For the team to be implicated in a theft, too…”

  Cristof nodded and looked at Taya.

  “I’ll take Lars to the lictors,” he said, sounding resigned. “You—”

  “If I’d wanted to go to the lictors, I would have!” Lars growled. “I need to find Kyle.”

  “I don’t care what you want,” Cristof shot back. “The cit
y’s in the middle of a security crisis. The Great Engine’s out of operation, the Tower’s all but abandoned, one of our decaturs is in jail, and now our newest analytical engine has been stolen. This is bigger than your team’s reputation, Lars.”

  The programmer caviled, then muttered and agreed.

  “I’ll talk to Alister,” Taya volunteered. “I’ll ask if he knows anything about this.”

  “What makes you— no, never mind.” Cristof looked sour. “All right. I’m going to try to argue my way onto this case. How can I reach you, if our paths don’t cross?”

  “If it’s late, send a message to the eyrie, but I’ll try to find you before then.”

  Cristof nodded and stepped into the street to find a hack. Taya angled herself next to Lars so that his bulky frame blocked off most of the wind.

  “So Alister really killed Decatur Octavus?” Lars asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And that woman?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s hard to believe.”

  Taya glanced at him. “He told me he was glad you ran Clockwork Heart in his honor. He was amused by the results.”

  The big man’s cheeks colored over his brushy stubble. “Probably some kind of prank he and Kyle hatched up together.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  Cristof returned. “All right, let’s go. Taya, stay off that leg. Take a hack around town. Do you have money for the fare?”

  “Enough. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to getting around.”

  “On wings.” He frowned. “I should have hired that coachman of yours for the day.”

  “I’ll be all right.”

  “If you’re certain.” He hesitated, then quickly stepped forward, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving her a fleeting kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  Taya rested her cheek against his cold fingers. “I hope you get the case.” She turned to Lars, who was giving them a bemused look. “You know, you’ll be treated better by Cris than by anyone else. He knows you and your team. Maybe you shouldn’t talk freely to anyone but him.”

  The programmer scratched his chin with a thoughtful look.

  “Yeah, that makes sense. The rest of the team would probably feel the same way.”