Corpse & Crown

by Alisa Kwitney

  “It’s all right,” said Justine. “The matron knows about me, and we’ve struck a deal. My cooperation, in exchange for Bill Sykes not winding up as a Bio-Mechanical, like your friend.” She exchanged a quick look with Shiercliffe. “So here I am, in borrowed finery so I can be trotted out to impress the kaiser.” She gave Lizzie a look and Aggie knew that something else had been telepathically communicated between the two.

  Shiercliffe, oblivious to these undercurrents, gave an approving nod. “We will explain how British ingenuity restored Miss Makepiece’s health.”

  “I see,” said Aggie. But it was more than just the new clothing that had made Justine seem so different. In the short time since Aggie had seen her last, Justine had settled into Nancy’s face and body more fully and made them more her own.

  Queen Victoria gave a dry cackle. “Why, look at you! You have two faces, young lady,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I never considered that.”

  “There,” said Aggie, taking advantage of the queen’s momentary distraction to button up the back of her gown. “Now, please, Your Majesty. We need to get you downstairs to greet your grandson before the match begins.”

  “Always enter a scene as late as possible,” said Queen Victoria. “And leave the moment the chocolates are gone.”

  “We are bound to do the former,” said Shiercliffe, pulling out her pocket watch and checking the time. “In fact, if we do not get there in the next few minutes, we may find that we are too late.”

  Aggie froze. “But I thought—don’t they have to wait for the queen to arrive?”

  “That is the protocol,” admitted Shiercliffe as she maneuvered a wheelchair out of the corner of the room. “I think the kaiser must already suspect that the queen is not his grandmother, or he would not be pushing so hard.” Placing the wheelchair parallel to the queen’s bed, she paused. “I’m not even sure there’s a point in all our rushing about. The kaiser’s arsenal is superior to ours, and he will have his confirmation of that when his Bio-Mechanical defeats ours. Lord Salisbury will withdraw all the funding from our hospital and funnel greater resources to the navy.”

  She glanced at Aggie. “I’m mostly sorry for you, Agatha. I so wanted you to have the career and the life you deserve. I’ve done things that perhaps I shouldn’t have, to try to help you. And as for that boy...” She looked away. “It seemed to me that his life was a fair exchange for yours.”

  Aggie stared at Shiercliffe, icy cold horror chasing through her veins. She turned him into a Bio-Mechanical for me. On the heels of that thought came another, worse one: I could have figured this out. I just didn’t want to know.

  “It wasn’t a fair exchange,” she said. “He was worth more than you realized. But even if he was the worst person in the world, it wouldn’t matter.” Aggie’s voice trembled but she spoke clearly, willing Shiercliffe to hold her gaze. “The moment you chose to harm him, you stopped being a nurse.”

  Shiercliffe looked stunned, and for a moment, Aggie thought she saw the glisten of a tear in the woman’s eyes. But only for a moment. Then Shiercliffe blinked hard and straightened her shoulders. “Perhaps you’re right.” She grabbed a hypodermic, some gauze and a small bottle of carbolic acid from a table. “Perhaps I do deserve your scorn,” she said, filling her pockets with the first aid items. “In any case, I will retire, no matter what happens today.”

  “Don’t be so quick to plan for defeat.” Justine arranged a white lace cap on the queen’s head. “We may still be able to save Dodger and this hospital—and keep the kaiser’s ambitions at bay.” Then she looked directly into the queen’s eyes for a long, wordless moment.

  “Well stated, corpse jockey,” said the queen, straightening. For the first time, she seemed utterly logical as she attempted to pin a jeweled brooch in the shape of the Imperial State Crown on her gown. “It is one thing to defy protocol and quite another to ignore a monarch when she is right in front of you. Especially when she is also your beloved granny.” With an exasperated sigh, she held out the brooch to Aggie. “Blast my rheumatism. Come on, you daft wench, what are you waiting for? Help me!”

  The harsh command was just what Aggie needed. Shaking off the paralyzing fear and guilt, she pinned the brooch in place. “Ready, Your Majesty?”

  “I was created ready,” replied the Bio-Mechanical Queen.

  36

  The death’s-head Bio-Mechanical Was going to kill Dodger on the cobblestones in front of the Royal Victoria Hospital.

  That was Aggie’s first thought as she pushed Queen Victoria’s wheelchair into the courtyard. The huge Prussian and Dodger had both stripped to the waist like boxers and were circling each other as the crowd shouted out bets. Moulsdale, Grimbald and the kaiser stood observing like judges at a sporting event.

  It did not look like anything resembling a fair match.

  Dodger’s lean muscled torso had only a thin metal alloy over his heart, while the massive German’s chest had been fused with scales of armor that were ridged with angry, puckered red scars. Perhaps Dodger might have an advantage as a sniper in a battle, but not in this kind of close physical contest.

  “Shall we make a little wager?” said the kaiser. “If your Dreadnaught wins, then I shall share all my technology with you. If my Totenkopf perseveres, then you shall let me have your creature so I can study his eyes.”

  “I’m not sure that we want to assume this is a fight to the death,” said Grimbald.

  “I see you are uncertain about your contender,” said the kaiser.

  “Of course we are certain,” said Moulsdale, his feathers clearly ruffled by the insult to his Bio-Mechanical. “We’ll take that bet.”

  “Men are such idiots,” said Shiercliffe, under her breath.

  “We need to help him,” said Aggie. Flanked by Lizzie and Justine, she maneuvered the queen’s wheelchair closer to the combatants.

  Moulsdale, Grimbald and the kaiser turned and began to bow at the sight of the elderly British monarch, while Dodger’s eyes tracked the source of the crowd’s excitement.

  The Totenkopf, however, did not take his eyes off Dodger.

  Aggie cried out as the German’s punch landed with terrifying force and surprising speed, slamming into Dodger’s midsection. The Totenkopf’s right arm had been reinforced with a metal gauntlet, making the blow even more dangerous, but before Aggie could draw in a breath, Dodger had rallied.

  Springing up, he vaulted over two footmen and kicked out, landing a solid blow on the big German’s chin.

  It hardly seemed to register.

  Dodger spun and twisted and kicked out again, moving with astonishing skill and grace. Aggie wondered if this was a skill he had possessed already, but when she looked at the crowd, she caught sight of Oliver Twist’s astonished expression. So Dodger’s agility was a by-product of Henry Clerval’s ichor concentrate.

  The Totenkopf moved to slam his fist into Dodger’s midsection, but before his blow could land, Dodger was already somewhere else. Darting in and out of the larger man’s reach, he targeted the Totenkopf’s head with lightning quick strikes.

  The crowd roared its approval.

  Then the German slammed his blunt, squared-off head back into Dodger’s face. Dodger crumpled to the ground, and the Totenkopf lifted one heavily booted leg and stomped on Dodger’s chest.

  Aggie cried out in horror as the crowd gave out a collective moan, but Dodger’s metal chest plate must have protected him from the worst of the impact, because he was already moving, rolling out from under the Totenkopf’s boot and springing to his feet again. Thrilled, Aggie gave a cheer and Moulsdale glanced at her with momentary irritation, as if she had committed a social faux pas, before returning his attention to the spectacle of brute force against reckless agility.

  Dodger had rallied, and now the two Bio-Mechanicals were fighting again, their bodies twisting and grappling. It wasn�
�t pretty, gentlemanly fighting, but dirty street brawling, with elbow jabs and kidney punches. At one point, Dodger bit the bigger man’s ear hard enough to draw blood.

  “He’s a bloody cannibal,” shouted one of the spectators.

  He’s not himself, she realized. He has no sense of self-preservation. He has no sense of self.

  Then she looked back at the kaiser and Moulsdale. They were watching with the avidity of spectators at a sporting match. To them, the combatants weren’t men—they were creatures. They would watch Dodger die with less emotion than they would feel if a cat took down a mouse.

  And he was going to die, right here in front of her eyes.

  Unless I can wake him up.

  She had never tried to reach out to Dodger before, and she had no idea whether she could do it—particularly now, when he was in this altered state of fighting frenzy. Her whole life had taught her to keep her distance from men who had lost control over themselves. When men are drunk or angry, they’ll lash out at anything that gets too close. Oh, for a slug of gin or a glass of beer or anything that would make it easier to cross the gap between them.

  Thunk! Wham! Two fast punches in quick succession battered Dodger back. He was slowing down. The manic green light in his eyes began to flicker on and off. How much fight did he have left in him?

  She needed to be in an altered state herself. Tired or drunk or...

  She closed her eyes and conjured the memory of his kiss. She thought about that first night, reaching out, pulling him in, closing the distance between them.

  She remembered the wild, clamoring hunger to touch him, and his answering touch.

  The blow knocked her back, making her stagger. Stunned, she opened her eyes and saw the big German coming at her again.

  I did it, she thought. I’m seeing out of Dodger’s eyes!

  Then the Totenkopf drew back his metal gauntleted fist and pain exploded in her jaw.

  From what seemed like a long way away, she heard the kaiser’s lazy, aristocratic drawl. “Why is your Dreadnaught no longer fighting?” The German emperor sounded distantly curious.

  Aggie turned to him and then realized, with a wave of disorientation, what had happened. Somehow, she hadn’t just managed to see out of Dodger’s eyes. She had managed to shift her awareness into his body. Dancing back away from the German Bio-Mechanical, she glanced at her own body, which appeared to be in a kind of trance.

  Dodger, she thought. Help me. If you don’t help me—

  The blow seemed to come out of nowhere. The bright sunny day trembled and dimmed as if a storm were descending.

  I’m losing consciousness, she thought. Everything was strangely quiet. Shiercliffe and my mother were right. A boy has been the death of me.

  No, Aggie, said Justine, speaking directly into her mind. You’re going to be all right. I’ve called in reinforcements.

  Stars exploded in her head. This would be a good time to switch back to my own body, Aggie thought.

  These rookeries are a right maze if you don’t know them.

  She was back in the winding, narrow streets of the East End, lost in the dark and the fog. She could feel Dodger’s arm under hers. He was leading her back. Never mind the coin, lovely. Pay me when you’re safely home.

  This time, she knew, home would not be a boardinghouse room, and Lizzie would not be there. At least she and Dodger would go there together, though.

  Then, just when she wanted it least, her vision returned and she saw the Totenkopf drawing back his gauntleted fist. The crowd was roaring with fury, and she could make out Twist’s voice telling Dodger to snap out of it.

  But Dodger’s muscles would not obey her. Then she met the Totenkopf’s gaze and was shocked to see something unexpected in their depths: regret. He hesitated, but just for a second.

  Looking out of Dodger’s Bio-Mechanical eyes, though, a second was long enough. With his enhanced perception, it seemed to Aggie as if time had slowed into a series of still images: Shiercliffe watching intently, her hands gripped tightly into fists. The hypodermic needle in Shiercliffe’s skirt pocket, revealed as clearly as if the fabric had become transparent. A buxom redhead slipping her hand into Shiercliffe’s pocket, then stepping forward.

  It took Aggie a moment to understand what she was seeing. It was like catching sight of yourself in an unfamiliar mirror—for a moment, she just saw a stranger. Then recognition dawned. She was looking at herself from Dodger’s perspective.

  She blinked, and time sped up again. The Totenkopf’s gauntleted fist descended toward her head.

  Then, unexpectedly, his eyes widened in shock. His arm stopped in its path and dropped to his side. He wavered for a moment before toppling to his knees and collapsing facedown on the ground, a hypodermic sticking out of the side of his massive neck.

  Aggie felt a dizzying lurch, and then she was back in her own body, looking down at the Totenkopf. She searched out Dodger and found him looking back at her.

  Inside her chest, she felt a wild flutter, as if a flock of doves were launching themselves out of her chest. Maybe it was relief. Or gratitude. Or else it might be something sweeter and scarier than either of those emotions. All she knew was that somehow, she and Dodger had managed to trade bodies, and he had used their connection and his pickpocket’s skills to take the hypodermic from Shiercliffe and plunge it into the Totenkopf’s neck.

  There was a bellow of almost animal rage and Aggie was shocked to see the kaiser rounding on her in fury. “What have you done? You, you pig-dog! I shall have you court-martialed and imprisoned for destroying the property of the German Crown!”

  “It’s my fault,” said Shiercliffe, moving deftly between Aggie and the enraged kaiser. Aggie felt a complicated pang, her initial quick relief dampened by the knowledge of what the matron’s past protection had wrought.

  “She didn’t destroy him.” Professor Grimbald was tending to the unconscious Totenkopf. “He looks dead, but he’s not.”

  This news mollified the kaiser somewhat. “Still,” he said, “you have displayed poor sportsmanship. There must be a rematch!”

  The fickle mob, which had been cheering for Dodger before, was now furious at the abrupt and bloodless end of the fight. Booing and hissing, the crowd surged forward, shouting “foul” and “unfair” and “rematch!” The kaiser’s guards and the hospital porters were looking increasingly uncomfortable as they attempted to hold back the human tide. While Grimbald continued to pacify the kaiser, the Prussian guards had pulled out their curved sabers. A group of porters, armed only with billy clubs, swung their truncheons threateningly.

  “Elizabeth!” Victor’s anguished voice was audible over the din of the crowd as he struggled to get through the mob. Aggie spotted Will and Byram in the mass of human bodies, as well.

  Abruptly, an imperious voice called out, “Cease these thanatic theatrics at once!” Queen Victoria, short and stout and peevish, heaved herself out of her wheelchair and stalked into the courtyard in her stiff black dress.

  The crowd, chastened, fell silent.

  “Your Majesty,” said Moulsdale, belatedly remembering to bow.

  The kaiser clicked his heels and inclined his head. “I was distressed to hear you were unwell, Your Majesty.” His tone did not match his words, and Aggie realized that the kaiser must have heard some of the rumors about Queen Victoria’s strange behavior of late.

  “As you see, I am in fine health,” said the queen, visibly bristling. Then, offering her cheek, she added, “Quite safe for you to give a kiss, my dear Willy.”

  The kaiser hesitated.

  Then the queen added something in German that startled a boyish laugh out of the middle-aged German emperor. “Grandmamma,” he said, eagerly holding out his right arm and gathering the diminutive Queen into his embrace. His left arm, Aggie realized, remained immobile at his side.

  “My dearest
grandson,” said the queen, “I do hope we can arrange for our two Bio-Mechanicals to display their unique talents in some other, more sportsmanlike fashion. I dislike these pugilistic matches.”

  “But, Grandmamma,” objected the kaiser. “They are meant to be soldiers.”

  “Soldiers—and allies,” said the queen. “After all, we are family, and family does not send soldiers against its own. I propose a new treaty between our two nations, so that we can share our technological breakthroughs and unite against our common enemies.”

  “Do you mean the French?” asked the kaiser.

  “Such an aggravating nation,” agreed the queen. “Although their pastries are rather delicious. Now that we have settled that...” She beckoned Justine over with an imperious wave. “I have another, rather more remarkable breakthrough to show you. This is Miss Makepiece, the daughter of the late head of engineering. Until two days ago, both her legs and lungs were paralyzed. Now, as you can see, she has no physical impediments whatsoever.”

  The Queen made a little gesture with her hands, and Justine descended into a graceful curtsy. “Your Majesties,” she said.

  “Is this true?” The kaiser reflexively grasped his atrophied left arm with his right.

  Justine inclined her head. “Indeed it is, Your Majesty.” She raised her chin, and Aggie didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that Justine had no intention of telling the volatile emperor that there was no way he could duplicate her cure.

  “Unglaublich,” said the emperor. “You must tell me all about it, Miss Makepiece.”

  Justine curtsied again.

  The Queen turned to face the crowd. “My good citizens of the East End,” she said. “We are pleased to announce that the Royal Victoria Hospital shall be receiving a generous endowment to support its continued efforts on your behalf.”

  There was a ripple of excited chatter, followed by a series of enthusiastic cheers. When the noise finally died down, one woman began to sing “God Save the Queen.” Within moments, the rest of the crowd had begun to sing along, as the kaiser and the slightly shell-shocked members of the hospital staff looked on. Beside them, Moulsdale looked puffed up with the conceit that he had managed this victory.