“I think that’s better.” Nikolai gave a little sigh. “I feel…slower. That is the proper way for a papa to behave.”
Thad wanted to be angry again, but he was just too tired. “Certainly, Niko, certainly.”
This seemed to satisfy the little automaton even further, and went back to paging through his book. “‘The victim of the cuckoo’s brood parasitism will feed and tend the baby cuckoo, even when the baby pushes the natural-born offspring out and begins to outgrow the nest,’” he read aloud. “‘On the rare instances that the parasitized parents abandon the baby cuckoo to build a new nest elsewhere, the mother cuckoo who laid the parasite egg will follow the parasitized parents and destroy their new nest, thus encouraging them to continue raising her offspring.’”
Sofiya leaned forward again and tapped Thad on the knee.
“You still have not explained to me what you were thinking,” she said. “Or what you were doing. Or what you found.”
Thad automatically glanced round, but saw no sign of spiders. “We must find a way to kill Mr. Griffin, and for that I need information. To tell the truth, I don’t think he’s on this train.” And he explained his reasoning.
“No,” Sofiya said when he finished. “He is in that boxcar.”
“How do you know that?”
“He told me he would be there.”
“And he would never lie?”
“Mr. Griffin is very careful about his safety. Ocean liners sink. Airships crash. Trains are not perfect, but they are the best choice. Being in a boxcar would not bother him in the slightest.”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Not quite six months.”
“Sofiya, you need to tell me everything you know about him. You have to understand that his only concern is his plan or his research. People mean nothing. The moment we become less than useful, he’ll have no compunctions about destroying us.”
She nodded slowly. “I have come to see that over time. But I cannot escape him. I tried once, and it ended…badly.” She lifted her chin, and the scar became more visible in the glow of the train’s lanterns. “He does pay well.”
“How much money is worth your sister’s life?” Thad countered. “Look, you know what I do for a living. And I can see you’re extremely intelligent and capable. Between the two of us, we can find a way out from under his thumb.”
“He is far more intelligent than both of us put together,” she said doubtfully. “But…he does have weaknesses. I have seen them.”
“Like what?” Thad tried not to pounce.
“He never comes out in public, and I have never met him in person,” Sofiya said. “Like you, I have only spoken to him through the speaker box. He worries overmuch about his personal safety. This is both strength and weakness. He wants-wanted-Havoc’s machine very, very badly, though I do not know why he wanted it or what the machine did. I am surprised he did not lose his temper when you failed to bring it to him.”
“I don’t like the word failed,” Thad growled.
Sofiya waved this away. “His spiders do quite a lot for him, but they cannot do everything, which is why he hired me. And you. And the circus. Sometimes he makes me hire other men for him. I have already telegraphed Saint Petersburg for men to haul his boxcars away when we arrive.”
“I wonder.” Thad drummed his fingers on the seat. “Perhaps the speaker box gives him some sort of…barrier or filter that lets him handle people effectively.”
“Perhaps,” Sofiya agreed. “You took a terrible and foolish risk out there. If he had seen you, he would have assumed your horse taught you nothing and killed someone in this circus.”
“He didn’t see me.”
“He would have, if I hadn’t come. I just hope he doesn’t notice that a spider went missing.”
Thad changed the subject. “Where did you get that pistol?”
“I bought it.” She touched her skirt. “It will take a great deal of cranking to recharge the battery now.”
“I can help,” Nikolai put in. “But I will need strong brandy first.”
“Thank you, little one,” Sofiya said absently. “Perhaps later. What did you learn of him, Thad? Since you risked so much, I hope you brought something back.”
“He travels with a lot of equipment,” Thad replied, “but I don’t think it’s all research or laboratory equipment. It’s for something else. A lot of copper and glassware. Delicate. That may be one of the reasons he needs to travel by train.”
“Glassware. Hm. What did-”
Two children tumbled into their seating area with giggles and gasps. They had dark hair and eyes and were clearly brother and sister. “Buon giorno!” the girl said.
Thad’s Italian was poor-he was better with Eastern languages. But he could get along. “Buon giorno, Bianca e Claudio,” he said. Nikolai looked up sharply.
“Chi e questo?” Claudio Tortelli asked, pointing at Nikolai. Claudio was eight, and hadn’t started flying with the family act yet, though he expected to soon. Bianca, a year older, was already flying with her mother Francesca.
Thad hesitated again. This was awkward, and one of the reasons he had wanted to put Nikolai in one of the baggage cars or in the wagon car with Sofiya’s mechanical horse.
“Il suo nome e Nikolai,” he said at last. “Lui e un…automa.”
“Automa?” Bianca leaned forward, crowding into the seating area. “Non appare come un automa. Fammi vedere.”
“She doesn’t think you’re an automaton,” Thad said to Nikolai. “She wants to see.”
Nikolai, who had been watching this exchange with quizzical interest, set his book aside and pulled down the scarf that hid his face. Bianca and Claudio drew back at the metallic jaw and flat nose. Then Claudio leaned back in.
“Mi piace,” he said. “Chi ti ha costruito?”
“He likes it and wants to know who built you,” Thad translated.
“Puh!” Bianca said. “Schifoso!” And she fled. Nikolai wordlessly rewrapped his face. Thad wanted to slap the girl. Sofiya sighed.
Claudio gave another burst of Italian.
“He wants you to play with him,” Thad said. “He says he has toys and things up where his parents are sitting, if you want to come.”
“I should go play with other boys,” Nikolai said. “That is what boys do. May I?”
“If the Tortellis don’t mind,” Thad replied slowly. “But his sister will be there. What she said wasn’t nice.”
Nikolai’s eyes went blank for a moment, and Thad thought he heard a faint clicking over the clack of the train wheels. Thad’s earlier feeling of protectiveness slid away, replaced by a cold reminder of Nikolai’s status as a machine.
“Sticks and stones will break my bones,” he said at last, “but words will never hurt me.”
“Applesauce,” said Dante.
“That’s the spirit,” Thad said woodenly. “Off you go, then.”
Nikolai slid free of the seat and left with Claudio, both of them already experts at staying upright on the rocking aisle.
“Alone at last, my husband,” Sofiya said.
Thad slumped in his seat. “Not you, too.”
She laughed, the first time Thad had ever heard that from her. The sound was surprisingly free and rich and eased some of Thad’s tension. She was very beautiful, even in her dirty cloak and her hair coming undone. Thad decided he could, perhaps, enjoy a few moments of that.
“I only make a joke,” she said. “But Nikolai seems to have cast us in a particular mold, no?”
“What are we going to do with him in Saint Petersburg?” Thad said. “I can’t have him hanging about all the time.”
“Why not? He seems to like you. Us. He is easy to care for-just give him a bottle of spirits from time to time. He might even prove useful.”
“A clockworker built him,” Thad said. “I don’t trust him.”
Sofiya twisted in her seat and looked up the aisle. Close to the front of the car, Nikolai and Claudio were p
laying on the floor between the seats with a set of toy animals. “And why not?”
Thad folded his arms and stared out the window, though it was fully dark now and there was nothing to see. “He comes from a monster who killed a lot of people. Who knows what he’s programmed to do?”
“Hm.” Sofiya crossed her ankles beneath her skirt. “You keep a clockworker’s parrot on your shoulder. That seems a contradiction for someone who dislikes clockwork machines.”
In answer, Thad took Dante down from the seat back and held him out toward Sofiya. “Say it,” he ordered.
“Applesauce,” Dante replied. “Doom, defeat, despair. Pretty lady.”
“Say it, bird, or I’ll twist your head round backward.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
David’s recorded voice was loud enough that Tina McGee, who was once again sitting on the seat backed up against Sofiya’s, turned around for a moment to look. Thad waved at her and put Dante on the seat back once more.
“I see,” Sofiya said quietly. “I understand, and I am sorry. Again.”
“I keep him. It doesn’t mean I like him.” Thad gestured abruptly in Nikolai’s direction. “How does he do that? He’s only a machine. Machines don’t play games.”
“It looks to me that he is learning to play. I think that is why he went with Claudio despite Bianca’s dislike for him. Did you not see his hesitation? He was caught between impulses-one that tells him to keep himself safe and one that tells him to learn. The impulse to learn tipped him over the edge. Of course…” She trailed a hand over the arm rest of her seat. “…human beings do much the same, do they not?”
“He’s not human, Sofiya.” Thad sighed. “I don’t know why you’re trying to convince me he is, but-”
“No,” Sofiya interrupted. “He is not human. But…” She trailed off again to glance over her shoulder. “But he is not an automaton, either.”
“Bless my soul,” Dante muttered. “Despair, death, doom, defeat.” And Thad was too tired to tell him to be quiet. He was leaning back to close his eyes again when Sofiya cocked her head inside her scarlet hood.
“Do you think Nikolai should be destroyed?”
Thad’s eyes came fully open. “I…don’t know.”
“Could you push him into a furnace and watch his face melt into slag?” She leaned forward, invading Thad’s space. “Could you see his eyes dissolve into molten glass? Hear his voice break and crack into smoke and steam?”
Thad realized he was pressed into the seat back and forced himself to stop. The image she conjured up was horrible, and it mingled with the sights and sounds of David’s last moments. His stomach roiled and mouth was dry. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Answer the question. We need to know when we arrive.”
There was only one answer. “No,” he replied at last.
“Perhaps we should back away a bit,” Sofiya said. “Explore other ideas. Could you tell him he cannot stay with you? Could you put him out on the street and say he could never see or speak to you again?”
“Probably,” Thad said.
“Even if he asked you not to?” Sofiya continued. “Because he would. He would say it was a papa’s duty to take care of a child, and he would beg you to let him stay.”
“I could give him to Dodd,” Thad said abruptly. “Dodd already asked to have him.”
“As an attraction for the circus, yes,” Sofiya agreed. “He would probably even pay you a large sum of Mr. Griffin’s money for him, good silver rubles. And then you would see him all the time, working for Dodd, doing as Dodd said, and he could ask you every day to take him back. Could you do that?”
Thad didn’t answer for a long moment, then muttered, “I could melt down your horse in a moment.”
“Ah! Now we are making progress. Why could you do that?”
“Progress?”
“Answer the question, my husband. Why could you melt down Kalvis but not Nikolai?”
“Because he looks like a little boy,” Thad nearly shouted. “Because he reminds me of David, and I couldn’t push him into a furnace any more than I could push you into one, you damned witch.”
“I know.” Sofiya touched his knee softly. “I do know, Thaddeus Sharpe.”
Thad was blinking back tears, something he hadn’t done since the last time he’d visited David’s grave. He felt drained, on the edge of exhaustion. “If you knew, then why-”
“Because I think you needed to say it out loud to someone.” Sofiya rested her chin in her hand. “Are you hungry? I could ask Mama Berloni if she has anything more to eat.”
When she said it, he became aware that he was both starving and immensely thirsty. “Definitely.”
“A wife’s duty.” She rose to her feet with an impish smile. “You know, clockworkers aren’t always evil.”
“Tell that to David. And Olga.”
“Clockworkers also build many fine things,” she said, still standing. “They discovered how to use electricity and build airships and design efficient engines like this locomotive and thinking machines like Nikolai. They go mad in the end, but it is not their fault. It is tragic.”
Thad’s mouth turned down. “Especially for their victims.”
* * *
The machine clung to the underside of the hot iron object. The iron tasted pleasant to the magnets on its feet, and the signal’s constant ping created a reassuring warble. But after an interval passed, the iron object slowed, then stopped. It exhaled great clouds. The machine hung on.
The signal…changed. The machine listened for only a moment, then released the magnets and dropped away from the pleasant iron. It skittered out from under the huffing iron object and rushed away, past more objects, some moving, some still. A few jumped away with little shrieks or cries, but the machine ignored them. It scampered across a floating object that spanned an enormous amount of rushing fluid, and the signal rewarded it with happy tones. The machine found a tasty iron object that covered a tunnel. It pried the iron away, dropped into the hole beneath, and vanished into the darkness.
A tall, blocky stone building in front of the hole bore a copper sign on the wall out front. The sign read BIBLIOTEKA ROSSIYSKOY AKADEMII NAUK, or LIBRARY OF THE RUSSIAN ACADEMY OF SCIENCES.
Chapter Seven
Brass spiders covered the walls and ceiling inside of Thad’s wagon, and they stared at him with unnerving mechanical eyes. He saw his face reflected back at himself a thousand times. Thad tried to ignore this and concentrate instead on the speaker box in Sofiya’s lap. She was sitting on one of the pull-down benches while Thad stood with his back against the door. In the distance came the faint sound of the calliope, creating a rhythm to help the circus set up. A warbling sound emerged from the speaker, and Sofiya adjusted some of the dials until it cleared. Thad was afraid of that box and what it represented, and he hated that he was afraid of it. He remained rigid, refusing to let the fear show.
“Are you there now, Mr. Sharpe?” asked Mr. Griffin’s chocolate voice from the box.
“You know I am,” Thad replied. “And I’m sure you know we’re in Saint Petersburg.”
“Indeed. Excellent work, including whatever you did during that inconvenient stop in the countryside.”
Thad’s skin pricked under the spiders’ stare. “Thank you.”
“One of my little friends went missing during that stop, by the way,” Mr. Griffin continued. “Have you seen it, by chance?”
Ice water poured down Thad’s back and his rib cage felt too tight. Sofiya’s face stayed rigidly set in stone, though Thad saw her fingers go pale around one of the speaker dials. The spiders clicked among themselves as if whispering together.
“I don’t keep track of your things,” Thad said shortly. “Would you like to go back and look for it on the tracks?”
“Not necessary. I have more.” If Mr. Griffin had possessed hands, Thad was sure he would have waved one. “I just dislike being wasteful. How is Nikolai?”
“He’s we
ll.” The words nearly choked in the Thad’s throat. I’m making small talk with a clockworker. “At the moment, he’s with Dante, watching the circus put up the tents on the Field of Mars.”
“So glad to hear it.”
“Why?” Thad asked abruptly. “Why do you care what happens to Nikolai?”
“I have an affinity for mechanicals,” Mr. Griffin said. “Are you surprised?”
“You’ve arrived in Saint Petersburg, as you requested, sir,” Sofiya put in. “I believe that ends our business relationship, does it not?”
“How much does the circus know?” Mr. Griffin countered.
Thad tensed. “They don’t know anything. They think you’re an eccentric rich man who pays on time.”
“And how much do you know, Mr. Sharpe? Tell the truth. I’m missing a spider, and that makes me…unhappy. Don’t bother fingering those knives you enjoy so much. You can’t move faster than one thousand, two hundred and forty-seven spiders. No, it’s two hundred forty-six. I forgot.”
Now Thad’s mouth was dry. He thought about jerking the door open and fleeing, but that would leave Sofiya in Griffin’s taloned clutches, and in any case, he didn’t think he’d get very far. Thad hated this. Thad hated him. Griffin had invaded Thad’s home, his very life, and twisted it into something unrecognizable.
“You haven’t answered my question, Mr. Sharpe.” Griffin’s too-smooth voice took on a condescending tone. “Have you lost the power of speech? Perhaps you need help to find it again.”
A spider leaped onto Sofiya’s neck. She didn’t move, but she did cry out, and a trickle of blood ran down her pale skin between the spider’s claws. Through it all, she continued to hold the speaker box. Thad started toward Sofiya, then stopped himself when all the spiders in the wagon snapped their claws in unison against the wooden walls and ceiling. Sofiya gritted her teeth.
“Stop it!” Thad shouted. “She didn’t do anything!”
“How much do you know, Mr. Sharpe? Speak!”
“I know you’re a clockworker,” Thad said quickly. “I thought at first that you hadn’t boarded the train, that it was a decoy or something similar, but I changed my mind. I know you need Sofiya and me for some sort of master plan, even though Havoc’s machine was destroyed. That’s all. I swear it.”
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