The Havoc Machine ce-4

by Steven Harper

  “No,” he said softly.

  She stepped close to him and took both his hands in hers, mingling brass and flesh. “I am sorry, Thad. I am so, so sorry.”

  Grief like raw lead dragged Thad to the floor. A black hole gaped inside him, pulled in every thought, every emotion, every bit of energy. He was on the floor with Sofiya’s arms around him, pounding the floor with both fists. It wasn’t true. This was the worst sort of nightmare. His Nikolai, his son, could not. Be. Dead. Not again. The pain was far worse than anything else he had experienced on the island. Worse than losing his hand. He would give his other hand, an arm, a leg to have Nikolai back, and be grateful for the chance. His pistol dug into his ribs, and for a wild moment he thought of putting it to his temple. A moment’s sharp pain, and the rest of the agony would end. Sofiya simply held him, and her own tears wet his neck.

  “Where is he?” Thad asked at last. His eyes were hot, and his nose was swollen.

  “In the Black Tent.”

  Thad pushed himself upright. “I want to see him.”

  “I am not sure-” Sofiya began, but Thad was already out the door.

  Dante jumped to his shoulder as he passed the motionless colt. It was fully dark now, and Thad swiped a hanging lantern from the side of the train to light the way. Sofiya hurried to catch up with him, but didn’t speak. Maddie remained behind. The Black Tent boxcar was closed up when they arrived. Thad slid the door open.

  “Dodd wants to leave as soon as possible,” Sofiya said, “but he knows what has happened, and the circus will wait. They are sad as well.”

  Thad didn’t answer. He just climbed into the boxcar with the lantern. Shadows danced everywhere, sliding across the walls and colliding with the tools in their racks. On one of the worktables lay a figure draped in a sheet. Thad hung the lantern from a ceiling hook with shaky hands. Never in his life did he think he would do this twice. Never in his life did he think he would lose another son. Heaven was mocking him.

  Dante dropped down to the table and hunched there without speaking. Thad pulled the sheet back. Nikolai lay beneath, staring upward with sightless eyes. His little mechanical face was absolutely still. One side of his skull was caved in, crushed as if by a sledgehammer. A great crack wended its way through hair and metal, and it was easy to see that from inside, pieces had fallen out. Thad had been so focused on getting him to safety that he hadn’t seen any of it, or perhaps he had refused to notice. Thad put his head down on Nikolai’s chest. He wanted to weep, but he felt empty now.

  “I’m sorry,” Sofiya said again.

  “Why can’t you fix him?” Thad said into Nikolai’s torn shirt.

  There was a long silence. Slowly Thad brought his head up. He turned to look at Sofiya. Her face was at the same time serious and a little frightened.

  “You can fix him.” In two strides Thad crossed the distance between them and grabbed the front of her cloak with both fists. “Why haven’t you? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Doom,” whispered Dante.

  “He has lost many parts from his head,” Sofiya said. “Normally it would be impossible to repair him without replacements. But when I destroyed Mr. Griffin-”

  Thad’s fingers went numb at this, and he let go her cloak. “You what?”

  “It happened while you were on the island.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “That is a story for later. From his lair, I brought out…”

  Realization stole over Thad. “That other Nikolai.”

  “Mr. Griffin had already shut him down permanently. I couldn’t leave it-him-down there, so I brought him here.” She lit more lanterns from the first, and in a corner Thad could now see the stunted Nikolai, huddled and broken. It should have given him a turn, but instead all he felt was hope.

  “You could use his parts to bring Nikolai back!” he exclaimed. “Why are you waiting? Do it!”

  “It is complicated, Thad.” Sofiya sank to a stool. “In order to do so, I would have to go deeper into a fugue than I have ever gone. I don’t know if I would come out. I might go completely mad like those other clockworkers. Like Mr. Griffin was, in the end.”

  He knelt beside her and took her hand. “I’ll be here with you. I won’t let you slide.”

  “There’s more, and you need to decide, Thaddeus Sharpe.” She took a breath. “He lost many memory wheels. They make up his past, who he is. I remember much of what I saw in their placement when I repaired him last time, but I do not remember everything. In other words, the Nikolai who comes back may or may not be the Nikolai who died.”

  Grief turned to disgust. Thad got up and turned his back. “No.”

  Sofiya sat behind him without speaking.

  “What’s the point, Sofiya? If Nikolai was truly alive and able to…to die, then he can’t be just a machine who can be reworked with a new set of memory wheels. And if he was always just a machine, then there’s no point in bringing him back at all.”

  “Was he alive, Thad?” Sofiya asked softly.

  “Yes!” Thad choked. “Yes, he was. And you can’t bring the living back from the dead. He wouldn’t be the same person. He wouldn’t be Nikolai.”

  “Do you have a sword in your throat even now?” Sofiya said. “Must everything be divided into right and left, black and white, this or that? You believed that all clockworkers were evil, but now I think you see that while some do evil things, others can do good, just like people. You believed clockworker inventions were untrustworthy, but you chose to keep one as your hand and treat another as your son.”

  “This is life and death, Sofiya. We aren’t God.”

  “God gave us the power to choose what to do.” She came round in front of him and took his hands again. “Nikolai is my little boy, too. I will swallow my fear like your swords and do my best to bring him back. But I will only do so if you wish it.”

  Thad hung there between choices for a long moment. It was so easy to see the world as divided in half, black or white, this or that. Ever since David’s death, he had walked the dividing line between the two sides. If he worked hard enough, he could restore the balance between them, make up for David’s pain and loss.

  He could make up for letting David down.

  Thad had let the world taint that balance. He had done the bidding of one clockworker. He had befriended another. He had surrounded himself with automatons and called one of them his son. Now he was paying for it in pain.

  But what had tending to the balance brought him in return? Had he been any happier killing clockworkers? It certainly hadn’t brought David back. Meanwhile, blurring the boundaries had brought him Nikolai, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, too. Whatever the chance, he had to take it. A father could only make one choice.

  “Do it,” he said. “Please.”

  It was the longest night of Thad’s life. Sofiya stormed about the Black Tent in a rage, and her words were as terrible as her fists when Thad was too slow for her. He did manage to duck out to tell Dodd what was going on, and Mama Berloni brought hearty food and strong tea to keep Thad awake. Still, he felt himself sliding. Sofiya’s clockworker’s energy kept her going strong, but Thad was only human, and his body was already running out of power. Fatigue clouded his mind, and he made a mistake. A ringing slap from Sofiya sent him reeling.

  Nathan’s strong arms wrapped around him. “You’re finished!” he barked, tossing Thad outside, where Dodd and Piotr the strongman caught him. To Thad’s astonishment, the rest of the circus had gathered round with torches and lanterns. Mama Berloni swaddled him in a blanket and shoved a buttered roll into his mouth. Mordovo gave him a flask of something bitter that almost instantly relieved most of his pains. The Tortellis had brought a cot and they pushed Thad onto it.

  “I’ll take it from here,” Nathan said, and vanished inside the Black Tent, where Sofiya was still shouting and cursing.

  “I’d better get in there, too,” Dodd said, and followed.

  Thad blinked up at everyone, bewildered.

/>   “Did you think you were the only one who cared about Nikolai?” Mama Berloni loomed over him with her huge arms folded. “Huh! We take care of family!”

  “Sleep,” Mordovo intoned. “We’ll keep watch and wake you when there’s news. Sleep!”

  “I shouldn’t…” Thad muttered.

  Moments later, a hand shook him awake. He sat up on the cot, confused and befuddled. Dodd, disheveled and with a swollen cheek, was bending over him. The sky was lightening and the air was cold. Every muscle ached. Where the hell was-

  Memory slammed through him, and he shot to his feet, ignoring the scream from his sore body. The circus folk were sitting or standing in small groups, still waiting.

  “What happened?” Thad demanded. “How is he?”

  “Sofiya’s out of her fugue,” Dodd said. “Nikolai hasn’t woken up yet, but she said you should come in.”

  Thad climbed into the boxcar, heart jumping about like a frightened hare. The Black Tent’s interior blazed with lanterns. Sofiya, her hair wild and her cloak thrown back, was standing by the worktable. Nikolai lay on it. His head was completely repaired. He was even dressed. Underneath, covered by the white sheet, were the small, sad remains of the other Nikolai. Dante bobbed up and down on the table. Astonished, Thad saw that the parrot was fully repaired as well. New feathers gleamed, and he had two good eyes. Thad automatically brought him to his shoulder.

  “I believe there were periods when I had to wait for Nikolai’s wheels to align themselves,” Sofiya said. Her voice was hoarse. “I did not wish to do nothing.”

  “Sharpe is sharp,” Dante said, and poked Thad’s ear with his cool beak.

  For a moment Thad couldn’t speak. Then he said, “Well?”

  “I believe I’ve restored Nikolai as best I can.” She leaned wearily against the worktable. “Now we merely…see.”

  Thad noticed her hands looked strange. He picked one up and turned it over. Her fingers and palms were blistered and bleeding. She winced and sucked in a breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “A small penance,” she replied.

  “Thank you.” He released her hand. “However this turns out, I want you to know that I’m grateful.”

  Without further comment, she reached behind Nikolai’s ear with her bloodstained fingers and pressed the switch. During the interval that followed, Thad held his breath. He couldn’t bear it. He wanted to run off, do anything but watch, let someone else tell him how it turned out. But he stayed. Long, agonizing seconds ticked by. Nothing happened. More seconds. Still nothing.

  “I failed,” Sofiya said at last. Her voice broke. “Oh God-I failed. I-”

  Nikolai turned his head. He blinked twice, then saw Thad. He sat up and cocked his head. Thad couldn’t move. He didn’t dare.

  “Nikolai?” he breathed.

  Nikolai stared at him. The upper half of his face still looked so human above the mechanical lower half. Thad swallowed, remembering the little boy he had rescued from Havoc’s castle, the one who read books on the train, who drank whisky and ate bolts, who danced Irish jigs, who told him how to be a father, who had brought him into this strange and incredible new family. Was it still him?

  “Papa!” Nikolai said, and held up his arms. “Ta da!”

  Thad gave a shout of utter joy and swept Nikolai high into the air. Beside him, Sofiya was laughing and shouting along with them. The three of them came into a hard embrace that lasted years and years. Dante bobbed back and forth on Thad’s shoulder, squawking and screeching with a joy of his own until Thad put up a hand to calm him down.

  “Sharp sharp sharp sharp sharp!” Dante nuzzled Thad’s ear, and then Nikolai’s. “Dammit!”

  “Did I do it right, Papa?”

  Thad set him down, wiping the tears from his face. “Do what right, Niko?”

  “You said a circus act is all about doing the impossible or unexpected, and that you have to make what you’re doing look more dangerous than it is.” Nikolai’s face was serious. “And you said that you can’t stay safe. So I came back.”

  Thad and Sofiya exchanged glances. “Are you saying,” Thad said, “that you came back as part of a…a circus act?”

  “I remembered what you said,” Nikolai said, “and it helped me come back.”

  “But how could you remember what I said if you hadn’t come back?” Thad asked.

  “I remembered what you said,” Nikolai repeated, “and it helped me come back.”

  Sofiya laid a hand on his arm. “I think this is a question for philosophers. For now, I would like something to eat, and to rest.”

  “You have to take care of Mama,” Nikolai agreed. “Because-”

  “-that’s what a papa does,” Thad finished with the widest grin of his life. “You’re completely right, my son.”

  They emerged from the Black Tent into the light of the rising sun amid cheers and cries of gladness from the circus.

  Epilogue

  It didn’t quite end there. Later that same morning, Thad, Sofiya, and Nikolai found themselves back at the Winter Palace in the drawing room of the tsar. One of the windows looked out over the Neva. Smoke still hung over Vasilyevsky Island and what was left of the Peter and Paul Fortress. The audience was with the tsar alone. Not even a single servant was present.

  “I could flood the island with troops,” the tsar said from his high-backed chair by the fireplace. “Destroy the automatons and melt them down.”

  “I’m sure that’s what your military advisers have been saying, ser,” Thad replied. Even though no one else was present, he, Sofiya, and Nikolai were still required to stand. “But you’ll notice they didn’t attack your men. They attacked just the fortress, and that only to prevent you from striking them.”

  This was stretching the truth, but Thad didn’t see any reason to tell the tsar who had actually fired on the fortress, and Nikolai had been instructed to remain silent.

  “You yourself said none of your soldiers died,” Sofiya added. “I was there, and saw for myself.”

  “What exactly are you saying?” Tsar Alexander said testily.

  “Now that Mr. Griffin has been destroyed, the automatons on Vasilyevsky Island can truly think for themselves,” Thad said. “They have thoughts and wishes and desires, just as men do.”

  “How do you know they think?” the tsar demanded.

  This was the tricky part, and Thad was tired, so tired, but a lot was riding on this, and he wasn’t going to make a mistake now. “They were built with the same pattern as Nikolai, here. And I know that Nikolai thinks.”

  The tsar raised an eyebrow. “Really? How?”

  “The same way I know anyone outside my own head thinks. I see it in the way he acts and responds to the world around him. He makes choices and he accepts what happens afterward. Men do the same.” He shifted tack quickly. “You are a forward-thinking man who wants to bring Russia into the modern world, sire, and you were planning to emancipate the serfs. You could declare the automatons of Vasilevsky Island part of that emancipation and then accept them as citizens. They aren’t clockworkers. They won’t go mad. They have no desire to attack you. They would have done so by now if they did. Imagine what they could bring to Mother Russia-tireless workers who could rebuild the Peter and Paul Fortress! Wonders of technology for the benefit of the entire country! You could challenge England and China themselves and finally bring Russia into the Great Game.”

  Alexander drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “You have given me a great deal to think about, Mr. Lawrenovich. I will consider your advice carefully. I do see no reason to waste resources attacking them-unless they decide to cross the river.” He paused again, deep in thought, then said, “Until I decide exactly what to do, we will leave the automatons alone.”

  Thad bowed. “Very wise, ser.”

  “Mr. Lavrenovich, if I do open talks with the automatons, would you consider the position of envoy? You’re uniquely suited to the position. I would have to give you a title,
which would upset some members of the court, but they would get over it.”

  The offer caught Thad off guard, and he bowed again. For a moment, he thought of what it would be like. The position would bring influence and prestige and he would be a permanent member of the royal court.

  It was the last part that decided it for him, and quickly.

  “Thank you, ser,” Thad said. “This is an unprecedented offer to a person like myself, but I couldn’t accept it. I’m just a circus performer, and I’m at my best in the ring. With my family.”

  Alexander’s face darkened, and Thad quavered. He had offended the man. But then the tsar waved a hand. “As you wish. We haven’t forgotten everything you’ve done here. And the court will always be happy to attend a performance of the Kalakos Circus.”

  Back at the Field of Mars, Dodd was holding the circus train for them. They entered the passenger car to more applause from the rest of the performers. Thad ducked his head and dropped into their customary seats at the rear. Dante, proudly displaying his gleaming feathers, perched on the chair back, and Maddie crouched beside him. Sofiya touched Maddie’s legs and sat down with Nikolai beside her. He pulled his book out from under the seat and paged through it as the train started forward with a jerk. It was quiet and cozy. A moment later, Mama Berloni appeared with her basket of food.

  “So much you’ve been through,” she said. “You eat now! For you, the sandwiches.” She handed several familiar packets wrapped in paper to Thad and Sofiya, then gave a bottle and a brown bag to Nikolai. “And for you the bolts and the vodka. You eat and grow strong for circus, no?” She bustled away.

  “You are already growing,” Sofiya said to Nikolai in mock dismay. “I will have to let your trousers out, and I just bought them.”

  “I like this,” Nikolai announced, crunching happily on a bolt from his bag. “This is our family.”

  “Doom!” Dante agreed.

  Thad had to laugh. “A human man, a clockworker woman, an automaton boy, a windup parrot, two brass horses, and a mechanical spider who all live in a circus. What kind of family is that?”