At this point, Dodd came up to the front with his hat and cane. Although ringmasters traditionally did not lead the circus in parade, he had clearly decided that inside the Winter Palace, tradition might be a bit more flexible, especially if it meant meeting the tsar. Nikolai stepped back and faded gratefully into his role as Thad’s shadow.
It was very strange making parade indoors. The calliope was deafening, and the animals and carts made the floor rumble beneath Thad’s muddy shoes. The circus trooped through close to a dozen rooms, each just as elaborate as the entrance hall. Gold and silver filigree dripped from the walls. Crystal chandeliers showered light over everything. Statues inlaid with precious metals and crusted with gems occupied elaborate alcoves. Enormous paintings of people Thad didn’t know looked down on them from gleaming frames. Though outside had been chilly, inside was hot, almost tropical, and Thad began to sweat. Most rooms sported exotic plants and flowers and even full-grown trees in pots, and the rooms were close with their cloying perfume. It was a sharp contrast to the slums where Nikolai had been taken. The crystals from a single chandelier would keep most of a neighborhood afloat for years.
Servants in gold and guards in scarlet were everywhere, standing against the walls to provide an odd audience to this indoor parade. The clowns and acrobats continued to caper. The stilt walkers gamely bumbled along, ducking under doorways. And Thad saw more spiders, in a tree, under a fireplace mantel, in a ceiling corner. He ground his teeth and tried to keep tension at bay without success. If Griffin wanted something, why the devil didn’t he just come out and say what it was? Sofiya saw the spiders as well, but she kept up her mask of control.
They reached the Nicholas Hall, a breathtaking two-story room of white marble trimmed with gold. Thad felt swallowed up in the enormity of it. The Tilt would have easily fit inside with space to spare. Twelve crystal chandeliers, each more than twenty feet tall, hung from the ceiling, which was inlaid with more gold. Balconies and windows ringed the upper half on one side, and the other side sported high windows that looked out on a courtyard. The parquet floor was covered with bare earth. A closer look revealed that great canvas sheets had been spread over the floor and covered with dirt both to protect the floor and ensure the animals and people wouldn’t slip. It must have taken days to arrange, and at enormous cost, for a performance that would last barely two hours. At the far end of the hall, looking tiny in the distance, was a low platform with two golden thrones. A small table between them had a large vase of red roses on it. Only one throne was occupied. The tsar was seated, awaiting their grand entrance. Thad took a deep breath as they started across the floor toward him. Tsar Alexander II ruled the largest kingdom in the world after the British Empire, but while Queen Victoria had to contend with a parliament, Alexander ruled with tight control. His merest word was law, and despite Thad’s reassuring words to Nikolai, he could have the entire circus beheaded, or beaten to death with whips, or driven into the North Sea and drowned, or anything else he might enjoy. He looked unassuming-a dark-haired man in his early forties with a mustache, large side whiskers, and a receding hairline over a blue military uniform looped with gold braid. His expression was as impassive as Sofiya’s.
Crowded around the platform was the court, men and women in their elaborate dress. They pointed and clapped as the troupe entered the hall. Little automatons flitted about with dainties just as they had during the execution of the clockworker, though more human servants were also in evidence. Thad didn’t see the Tsesarevich, Alexander’s heir, and for that, he was grateful, though on the floor in front of the platform on five smaller thrones were five children. The oldest was a boy of about fifteen, and the youngest was a child of three. The tsar’s other children, Thad assumed. He was glad to see them-it was always easier on everyone to perform when children were in the audience. The younger ones were laughing and clapping like the court, but the teenaged boy wore an expression of practiced boredom.
The automaton wheeled itself within speaking range of the throne, bowed creakily, and announced, “Your Imperial Majesty, allow me to present the Kalakos Circus of Automatons and Other Wonders!”
Dodd came forward now and bowed low. Behind him, everyone in the circus did the same, including the elephant and Kalvis. The tsar’s children were looking at Nikolai with wide eyes. Thad’s mouth was dry. A lot rode on this. If the tsar enjoyed the performance, the circus would reap instant popularity. Everyone, rich and poor, would clamor for tickets to see the show the tsar himself admired, and every performer would become famous. But if the tsar showed a moment’s boredom or even-and Thad’s chest went tight at the thought-actual dislike, the Kalakos wouldn’t be able to pay audiences to attend, in Russia or anywhere else. A king in Germany had once destroyed a composer’s reputation by giving a single yawn during a symphony. The Tsar of Russia could do far worse.
“By your Majesty’s leave,” Dodd said in rote Russian he had learned from Sofiya, “may we make a spectacle?”
There was a moment of silence. Tension filled the air. Every performer in the circus stood stock still. Thad didn’t breathe.
The tsar shifted on his throne. “You may,” he said.
Dodd blew a shrill note on a silver whistle. Instantly, the parade sprang into action. The wagons rumbled forward to create a barrier across the Nicholas Hall for the performers to hide behind. Mama Berloni and her daughter stretched a white sheet between two poles to make a changing area for some of the women. Roustabouts rushed forward with pieces of a ring and fitted them together like a jigsaw puzzle on the earthen floor. Meanwhile, everyone who had an act that could be examined up close rushed in among the court to entertain during the setting up. The clowns fell over one another. Mordovo plucked a variety of objects out of thin air. Tina McGee’s poodles leaped about at her command. The Stilgores strode carefully about on their stilts, bowing elaborately. Thad could see they were tense, but to an outsider’s eye, they were performing just as they always did. Sofiya led Kalvis back to the wagons. Thad wanted to watch the tsar for his reactions but he knew he should get out of the way, so he followed her with Nikolai.
“Are you going to let me in on your secret performance, then?” Thad asked. This was another nervous point for him.
“What fun would that be?” Sofiya stroked Kalvis’s nose. “But I think you are misnamed, my dear one. You are indeed.”
And that was all she would say.
The court seemed to enjoy the up-close performances. The tsar’s younger children giggled and liked being allowed to pet the poodles. No one approached the tsar himself, who remained on his throne and watched everything with an expressionless face. Thad became more and more uneasy. For someone who reportedly enjoyed a circus, he didn’t seem to having a good time. What if he yawned? Or worse, got up and left the hall? The thought made Thad dizzy.
Once everything was set up, including a portable trapeze and tightrope rig for the flyers, Dodd stepped into the ring and everyone else withdrew behind the wagons. All had gone well so far, but none of the tension had evaporated, and the performers remained grimly silent behind the wagons. Nikolai stuck close to Thad and peeked around the lion cage to watch.
“We begin with a new act created for the tsar himself,” Dodd announced. “Sofiya Ivanova Ekk!”
The calliope burst into song. Sofiya leaped aboard Kalvis and trotted out to the ring. Thad watched, heart pounding. This was an incredible risk. Sofiya was a first-timer. Her act was completely untried, and putting her as the opener before the tsar seemed foolish in the extreme. The grim faces on the other performers told him they felt much the same way. But Nathan had said only that the Kalakos Circus was known for its automatons, and they needed to open with an act that used one. Period. Thad prayed that Dodd-or Nathan, at any rate-knew what he was doing.
In the ring, Kalvis, with Sofiya on his back, knelt on his forelegs to the tsar, then reared on his hind legs and walked several steps forward. The court made appreciative noises. Sofiya herself stood up, lightly cl
imbed to Kalvis’s head, and perched atop him, her feet braced on his nose and on his stiff mane. Nikolai gasped and Thad found he was biting a thumbnail. Sofiya swirled her cloak around her body like a scarlet flower. The court applauded, though the tsar had yet to react.
Kalvis dropped back to the ground. Sofiya rolled free of him and vaulted back onto his back. He spun in place, faster and faster, and Sofiya’s cloak furled outward in a pinwheel. Amazingly, she stood up again like a ballet dancer and, still spinning, leaped high into the air, her cloak and skirt still swirling about her. She came down just as Kalvis froze to let her land. The court clapped wildly. Thad did, too. Though he knew it was all possible because of Sofiya’s clockworker reflexes, it was still breathtaking to watch.
Next Sofiya flung her cloak aside and set Kalvis to cantering about the ring while she did many of the more usual riding tricks-hanging from the sides, bouncing from one side to the other, doing handstands on the horse’s back. Here the court began to lose interest; there was nothing particularly new or daring here. The tsar looked bored, and Thad tensed again. Sofiya brought Kalvis to a halt so he was sideways to the tsar. The calliope music changed, and she circled Kalvis three times. When she rapped smartly on his rump, a cunning trap door opened from his hindquarters. A drumroll began. While the court and the tsar stared, Sofiya reached inside and, with great flair, pulled out a long, slender box. Thad caught his breath as the box unfolded. Legs ending in tiny hooves extended down to the ground. A long head rose on a graceful neck. A tail rolled down from the back. In seconds, Sofiya was showing off a little brass colt that walked forward on unsteady legs. An amazed laugh burst inside Thad’s chest, and he had to fight to hold it in. Incredible! Nikolai clapped both his hands over his mouth to keep quiet.
The court went wild. They applauded and stamped their feet. The moment they did so, Nikolai joined in. Sofiya waited until the sound crested, then held up her hands for quiet. When the noise died down, she cocked her head and touched the colt. A thin, high whinny sounded clearly through the hall. The court howled its approval.
And then, Tsar Alexander II plucked a rose from the vase at his elbow and tossed it to Sofiya. A ripple ran through the court, and the applause redoubled. Behind the wagons, the performers laughed and hugged one another with glee. Thad felt ready to collapse with relief. Sofiya, meanwhile, caught the rose neatly, curtsied low, and made her exit.
Moments later, while Travis Fair was out in the ring with his lions, the rest of the performers crowded around Sofiya behind the wagons to offer hushed but enthusiastic congratulations. She accepted with thanks. Thad waited until he could get her alone.
“Marvelous,” he said, unable to keep a grin off his face. “Stunning. I can’t describe it better. Nathan was absolutely right to open with you.”
“Spaceeba, ser,” she said with a laugh.
“The colt was a brilliant addition,” he continued. “The tsar clearly enjoyed it, which means the court will also at least act like they love us, whether they truly do or not. Capital and brilliant both, Sofiya.”
She actually colored and smiled at him.
“He is sweet. It was fun to watch him be born.” Nikolai stroked the colt’s thin nose, an odd look in his strange eyes. “Does he have a name?”
“Not yet. But for now, little shadow, we must put him away. He has little room for springs and power, you see, and winds down quickly.” With that, she twisted the colt’s ear, and it collapsed in her arms. This didn’t seem to bother Kalvis, who merely waited behind the empty lion cage with mechanical patience. With several deft cranks and folds, Sofiya returned the colt to its state as a long box, which she slid back into Kalvis the same way it had come out. Thad had to admire the clever workmanship even as the reverse “birth” gave him a small shudder.
The show continued. Living horses and the new seal act and the Flying Tortellis on their portable trapezes. Mordovo outdid himself with his Cabinet of Miracles. Through it all, the tsar showed polite interest, but never the enthusiasm he did for Sofiya. During Tina McGee’s act with her poodles, the tsar spoke to a servant, who bustled away and arrived behind the wagons a moment later. He gestured sharply at Nikolai and said, “The tsar wishes to know when the little automaton will perform.”
Chapter Eleven
Nikolai looked at Thad, his eyes wide with fear, or an automaton’s version of it. Dread twisted inside Thad’s chest, and Sofiya’s face went flat again.
“The…little automaton?” Thad temporized.
“The boy,” said the servant impatiently. “The tsar awaits.”
“I’m afraid the boy does not perform,” Sofiya said slowly. “He is new, and-”
“Is that what you wish me to tell the tsar?” the servant said haughtily. “That the circus he went through considerable expense to bring into this hall cannot accommodate his wishes?”
Sofiya floundered at this. Nikolai looked terrified now. Thad cast about in desperation. Sending Nikolai out there would be suicidal. He wasn’t trained as a performer, and if he made a laughingstock of himself, all the goodwill the circus had built up would vanish. The tsar might even take it into his head to punish them for wasting his time. It had been known to happen.
“The tsar awaits your answer,” the servant said.
Thad’s eye fell on Mama Berloni’s changing screen strung between its poles. The lights from the chandeliers were so strong that the shadows of people moving behind it were sharp and crisp. Shadows. A wild idea came to him.
“Tell the tsar the boy is thrilled to appear next,” he said.
The servant nodded and withdrew as Nikolai and Sofiya both gasped. Nikolai grabbed Thad’s hand with metal fingers. “Why did you tell him that? I can’t perform! I can’t do anything!”
“Do you trust me, Niko?” Thad asked.
“Yes.”
“Then trust me now.”
Out in the ring, Tina finished up with the poodles to polite applause. Thad had just enough time to get in a word with the now nervous Dodd, who ran out and blew his whistle for attention.
“Nikolai the Automaton,” he called, and Thad heard the uncertainty in his voice. Thad’s own throat was dry as sandpaper and his heart beat like a hummingbird in his chest.
“Thad,” said Sofiya, “what are you-”
“Niko! Quick!” Without waiting to see if Nikolai followed, Thad strode out to the ring and bowed to the tsar. The eyes of the court were all on him. Thad didn’t suffer from stage fright, but he was nervous now, and his hands tried to shake. Only a lifetime of a sword swallower’s discipline kept them still.
He came upright. The tsar’s eyes were hard from his throne. The children spread out before him looked more expectant, more eager, and Thad suddenly understood that they had actually asked for Nikolai. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. Thad turned, but the ring was empty-Nikolai hadn’t followed him. Covering his surprise, he whistled through his fingers and waved sharply to the wagon area. No response. Thad quickly made an exaggerated gesture of fatherly impatience with his brass hand and whistled again. All part of the act, ladies and gentlemen, just building suspense. The court gave a low laugh.
Still no Nikolai. Praying hard, Thad did a big comic windup and whistled as hard as he could. At last Nikolai appeared and edged into the ring in his new red coat, his eyes wide, his metallic jaw hanging slightly open. The women in the audience made little murmurs. Thad caught, “Isn’t he darling?” and “What a sweet thing!” and “I wonder who built him?” and “Do you think that handsome man is a clockworker?”
That last comment chilled Thad, though he kept a smile on his face. “Your Imperial Majesty! My lords and ladies!” he called in Russian, breaking the circus tradition of speaking during a performance. “May I introduce…my shadow!”
He turned to Nikolai. “Copy me,” he said in an undertone.
“Wha-?”
“Like you did with Dodd in the Black Tent. Be a mirror! Go!”
Thad raised a hand. Nikolai raised
his own a fraction of a second later. Thad raised the other. Niko copied it. Thad backed up, Nikolai backed up. Thad turned a cartwheel, Nikolai did the same. Thad went on to other acrobatics-leaps, somersaults, and even a backflip. Nikolai matched him flawlessly. And then Thad danced, an Irish jig that started out slow. Nikolai stumbled for a moment, and the audience gasped, but he caught himself and matched Thad step for step. Marcus at the calliope caught on and started playing. Thad sped the dance, faster and faster. Nikolai kept up with him. Thad switched to the knee-bending, boot-stomping folk dance Russia was most famous for, a dance his mother had taught him long ago. This time Nikolai caught the switch and matched Thad so closely that only a sharp eye could see he was actually a fraction of a second behind him. The court clapped their hands in time to the steps and even danced amongst themselves. Thad was panting a little now and starting to sweat. It was working. It was actually working! He felt a lump of…pride?…that Nikolai was impressing these important people so readily. But Nikolai was a machine, and his memory wheels allowed him to do this, nothing more. As well be proud of a printing press for turning out a newspaper. Still, the emotion remained.
The Havoc Machine ce-4 Page 17
