“Give us sound generator,” boomed one of the Cossacks. “And then we kill you.”
“Shouldn’t that be or we kill you?” Glenda shouted back.
“No.”
The alarms continued to blare discordant notes in a mocking parody of the paradox generator’s siren song. It was a day for loss. Gavin had destroyed his own invention, his pinnacle of perfection, and then watched his mentor and his friend die painful deaths. He had lost a chance to find out what had happened to his father, and nearly died himself. He looked at the Cossack mechanicals, and a terrible calm came over him.
“I don’t have time for you,” he said. “The dam is failing. You need to save your people, the ones you took responsibility to rule. If you don’t, I will destroy you. This is your only warning.”
The Gonta-Zalizniaks laughed as one, and the sound echoed over the warning sirens. Then their voices merged into an eerie unity. “You think we are fools. Now you die.”
The weapons moved. Gavin placed one hand on top of the faintly glowing Impossible Cube. It looked heavy, but felt light and springy. Gavin opened his mouth and sang. A clear D-sharp reverberated in the air. The Cube glowed electric blue, and it amplified Gavin’s voice to a rumble, a boom, a half-tone detonation. The cone of sound flattened the mechanicals like tin soldiers. Several of them fell into the river with spectacular splashes and sank from sight. The sound poured from Gavin, shattering windows and smashing doors on both sides of the river. The mechanicals twitched and shuddered. Glass bubbles cracked and broke. The Cossack clockworkers within clapped hands to bleeding ears and screamed in pain. Alice finally jerked Gavin’s hand from the Cube, and the note died, leaving groaning, half-conscious Cossacks in its wake. The Cube darkened completely.
“Enough,” Alice said. “They’re down. The rest of their fate is up to them.”
“You’re more merciful than I,” Phipps observed. “They did experiment on children, after all.”
“And you sided with them,” Alice said.
“That was before I knew. Can you still drive that mechanical? We’re in a bit of a rush.”
“How are we going to evacuate everyone?” Glenda said. “There’s just the four of us.”
A booming crack thudded against Gavin’s ears. Gavin’s stomach tightened. The dam was failing faster than he had originally calculated. Once it gave, the river would smash through the lower city. Most of Kiev was built on hills, but the lower sector past the dam would be wiped out, including the square that housed the Kalakos Circus.
The circus.
“I have an idea,” Gavin said. “Lieutenant, can you drive a mechanical?”
Phipps gave him a withering stare.
“All right, good. You take this one. Alice, if you and Glenda can use the other one to run ahead and tell Dodd we’re coming, I think we can save the people. But you’ll have to hurry.”
“What do you intend to do?” Glenda asked.
“You’ll see. Just go!”
“You drive,” Alice said to Glenda. “I don’t think my arms are up to the task.”
In moments, Glenda and Alice had run off, picking their way through the tumbled army of Cossack mechanicals. Some of the Gonta-Zalizniaks were groaning softly in their shattered bubbles, but Gavin spared them little pity. He had given them every chance, and he had other worries.
“Let’s move, Lieutenant,” he said, and hoisted himself into the mechanical he had stolen from Danilo Zalizniak. Lieutenant Phipps followed, and took up a position next to him. It was distinctly odd sitting near Phipps on a padded bench instead of facing her across a desk—or the barrel of a gun. Inside the machine, Gavin pulled part of the control panel apart until he located a rubber-coated live wire. He yanked the wire loose and jammed the business end against the darkened Cube. Instantly, it glowed electric blow.
“Go!” he said. “Walking speed.”
Phipps put the mechanical into a stately march upriver, toward the circus. Gavin put his hand on the Impossible Cube and sang. This time, the note was a G, blue and pure and clean. The Cube glowed, and the note flowed out like liquid silver, washing over the streets and into the factories and houses and shops. The people, who had hidden inside the moment the mechanical army had marched past, emerged and blinked beneath sooty clouds. They listened to the wondrous sound and, unable to resist, followed it. On both sides of the river, people followed it. They poured out of the city and followed. Those who could walk helped those who couldn’t. And they were happy. They laughed and chattered among themselves and pointed at Gavin, pale blond and blue-eyed as he sang on the marching mechanical.
And then the plague zombies came. They slid out of the shadows and into the street by the river, unbothered by the dim sunlight. The people didn’t seem to notice or care. In the world’s strangest parade created by the world’s strangest music, everyone moved without panic, without fear, down the river toward the circus.
“How long can you keep this up?” Phipps asked. She seemed unaffected by the note, perhaps because of the amount of machinery in her nature.
Gavin shrugged, took a quick breath, and kept on singing. He was already tired from the events down by the turbines, and now the Cube was taking more energy from him. He felt like a water glass with a hole in the bottom, but he kept singing. The crowd followed along. It wasn’t the entire city, thank heavens—only those who could hear the note, the ones who were in danger of the impending deluge. When they encountered a bridge, the people on the far side of the river crossed over to Gavin’s side. Gavin was becoming seriously tired now, and the intervals between breaths were growing shorter. He forced himself to keep up the volume, and Cube glowed like captured sky in his hands.
A booming crack in the distance behind them, louder than thunder from an angry god, told Gavin the dam was beginning to fail now. Cracks were racing through its structure. Once it went, a swath of downriver Kiev would be washed away, and his clockwork was automatically calculating the path, volume, and velocity of the water. His voice wavered, tainting the purity of the note. The Cube’s glow dimmed, and a wave of fear swept through the crowd. They heard the thunder and saw the plague zombies in their midst. Screams and knots of panic broke out. Sweating, Gavin forced his voice back to the G. The Cube’s blue glow steadied. The crowd calmed and continued. Phipps shot him a worried look, but she didn’t dare speed up and outpace the crowd.
Gavin’s body was starting to shake from the effort now. Every bit of concentration he had poured into holding that single, silver note. The vague memories of his father loomed up. He had to hold the note perfectly, with absolute precision, or Dad would—
No. It was nothing to do with his father. He needed perfection in this time and in this place because these people needed it to live, and he would do it. He would be the voice they needed. For them. Not his father.
A new strength came over him, and he sang and sang and sang. The note held steady—and perfect. The crowd came quickly and happily and in an orderly fashion.
And he realized the mechanical was kneeling beside the circus train. Alice and Glenda were in the engine compartment wearing ear protectors, and a wave of relief swept over Gavin when he saw a healthy cloud of smoke puffing from the stack. Dodd had said he would try to get the boilers going, and Alice had warned him not to stop. The circus people who hadn’t managed to flee joined the crowd, their expressions also happy and calm. Linda wasn’t among them, but Nathan and Dodd were, to Gavin’s relief. Click and the little automatons were perched on the engine’s roof, not bothered by the heat of the boilers.
Gavin kept up the note, though he could feel his voice starting to fail. An explosion upriver boomed against his bones and startled the crowd, but set off no panic. Instead, they piled into the train, into passenger sections and boxcars. They climbed onto the roofs and clung to the sides. They boarded the Lady and sat on the deck. They packed themselves in with calm, ordered care because Gavin’s voice led them and kept them from understanding that the river carried their deaths.
Finally everyone was on board. People clung to every surface, inside and out. Phipps disconnected the Cube from the mechanical and helped Gavin up into the engine compartment with Alice and Glenda. He hoped it would retain enough power. His tired mind tried to run the formulas to find out and failed. Alice gave him a concerned look and moved toward him, but Gavin shook his head violently. She gave a tight nod and turned back to the boilers. Gavin kept singing, barely. His legs and arms shook with exhaustion. The tiny room was crowded, so Phipps stood back, near the coal carrier. Alice, who had certainly never driven a train before in her life but whose talent with machines let her understand them quickly, pulled levers and spun wheels, giving instructions to Glenda with gestures. The engineer was part of the crowd in the back, enthralled by Gavin’s voice.
A soft wind whispered over them, created by tons of unchained water pushing the air ahead of it. The train jerked forward. Wheels spun in place, caught for a moment, spun again, and caught for good. Slowly, the train moved ahead, gaining speed. The deadly flood thundered toward them, smashing stone buildings and washing away bridges.
Gavin’s strength gave out. The note ended. He dropped the Cube and would have fallen if Phipps hadn’t stepped forward and caught him. Glenda snatched up the Cube before it hit the ground, handed it to him, and went back to work.
“Are you all right?” Phipps asked.
Gavin felt like a sack of wet sand. He could only give a small nod. Phipps helped him slide to the metal floor, though he could see out through the space between the coal carrier and the engine, the Impossible Cube in his lap. Without his voice to keep things steady, fear swept the people on the train. Demonic howls and screams trailed behind them, and some of the people clinging to the sides and top fell off. The train rocked, but Alice didn’t slow. Gavin didn’t have the strength to feel sorrow for the ones they had lost. The river roared behind them, reaching for them with watery dragon hands. The train gained speed. Buildings rushed past them, then were devoured by the river. Despite the train’s speed, the river was gaining on them, eating the tracks behind them.
“It’s hard,” Alice said, her ear protectors now around her neck. “Everyone’s panicking and rocking the train. It slows us down.”
Glenda looked out the window and back. “The river’s getting closer, nearly to your ship.”
Coal dust smudged Alice’s lovely face. She looked at Gavin, and he could see the reluctance. “Darling, can you… ?”
He didn’t have the power. He couldn’t even lift his arms. But Gavin met her brown eyes. This woman had led him into hell and changed him and now she was leading him back out. She needed him. With a groan, he lifted a leaden hand and dropped it on top of the Impossible Cube, let his mouth fall open, and whispered a note.
Nothing happened. The river thundered toward them. The train rocked again as people screamed and thrashed against one another, crushing and beating one another against the walls of the cars. Gavin swallowed, took a breath. He was Gavin Ennock. He could do this.
Gavin breathed out and sang. The G came through, crystalline blue. The Impossible Cube flickered, then glowed and the sound pulsed back over the train. The people instantly calmed. The train stopped rocking and picked up speed. Alice and Glenda, who had put their ear protectors back on, worked at the engines, while Phipps hovered over Gavin. He sang and sang while the train puffed faster and faster. The water receded behind them, and then the train took a curve that brought it uphill. It lost speed, but it went away from the water. Gavin’s hand was sliding away from the Cube, and Phipps reached down to press it back into place. The Cube was losing its glow, running out of the electricity it had taken from the mechanical. Half a mile flashed by, and they were at the top of the hill. Alice slowed the engine and let the train coast. It was drifting to a stop near a station.
“We did it,” Alice said, but her words came from far away. “Darling, you did it!”
The Cube went black. Gavin tumbled into darkness.
He was lying on a cloud, a soft, fluffy cloud. It was so restful and fine. Delightful not having to move. He had only a tiny moment to enjoy the sensation. Abruptly, he jerked fully awake as he always did, his heart beating at the back of his throat.
The room was spacious and white. Thick rugs covered polished wood floors. A large wardrobe of pale birch took up one corner, and an icon of the Virgin Mary hung in one ceiling corner, draped with white bunting embroidered with a red design. A table and easy chairs occupied another corner. The generous bed was also white, with fine linen sheets, a feather-filled duvet, and plump pillows. Where was he, and how had he come here?
He sat up and groaned as fire tore through every muscle. Aching and sore, he forced his feet around to the edge of the bed and realized he was naked. And clean. Hissing with every movement, he found a chamber pot under the bed, used it, and replaced it. The fiery ache continued when he stood up. A soft white dressing gown hung from the door, and he gingerly tied it on, which made him feel a little more secure. To his immense relief, he found his fiddle case next to the door. Carefully, he picked it up and opened it on the bed. The fiddle inside gleamed at him, undamaged. He sighed heavily.
A quick knock made him turn. The knock repeated.
“Uh… hello?” he called. “Who is it?”
The door burst open and Alice rushed in with a tray of food. Click trotted in behind her. “You’re awake! Thank God!”
She set the tray on the table and caught Gavin in a hug that made him howl. She instantly released him. “I’m so sorry! I should have realized—when I stopped moving, everything started to hurt worse, too, and you’ve been asleep for a long time.”
He hobbled to an easy chair next to the table and, gritting his teeth, eased himself into it. Alice hovered over him, offering help, but he waved her away. Click jumped onto the bed and settled into a pillow, his phosphorescent eyes gleaming green.
“How long was I asleep?” Gavin asked.
“You were unconscious, not asleep.” Alice took up the chair opposite his. She wore a white blouse, a pale blue skirt, and a straw hat with peacock feathers on it. All of it made her look free and bright, and Gavin was so glad to see her. “It’s been three full days. I was so worried. I thought the smell of food might bring you out.”
The mention of the food brought his head around to it. There was tea and some kind of dumpling in a cream sauce and peppered roast pork and dark bread and cucumbers with onions. Gavin was ravenous, and, ignoring the pain, pulled the tray toward him so he could eat. The dumplings were stuffed with soft cheese, and the tender pork was seasoned perfectly. Alice took a paper packet from her pocket and handed him two pills from it.
“Take these,” she said. “They’ll help with the pain.”
He swallowed them and kept eating. “Where are we?”
“The mayor’s house. So much has happened, I don’t know where to begin.”
“The last thing I remember is singing on the train.”
She nodded. “Part of the dam held, so the river destroyed less than we feared—a section a quarter of a mile wide and about five miles long. We got nearly everyone within that zone to safety. We lost some people, but… almost everyone survived. Except the Gonta-Zalizniaks. They’re all missing, presumed dead. Their house was at the bottom of the valley, you know, and it’s completely underwater now. The river is returning to its original bed. Some of the city will be flooded permanently, but most of it can be reclaimed. We’re being hailed as heroes.”
“We are?” Gavin paused with a fork halfway to his mouth. “We destroyed the dam and killed a bunch of people.”
“That’s not the way the Ukrainians see it,” Alice said. “The dam fed power to their hated Cossack rulers, you see. We, on the other hand, rescued their children, led the Cossacks down to the horrible dam, blew it up, and swept them away forever. The mayor—his name is Serhiy Hrushevsky—has taken over the city. He’s a very nice man who used to be a professor at the Kiev Ecclesiastical Seminary but became mayor because he wanted to soften what the Cossacks were doing. His son Mykhailo is extremely intelligent as well and will probably succeed him in politics, and— Oh! I’m babbling. I’m just so relieved that you’re all right, darling.”
“I’m happy to see you, too,” he said. “But what next?”
“Well, once the whole story came out, Mayor Hrushevsky brought us here to rest and recover as honored guests. I cured the rest of the plague zombies in the city, which only made everyone even happier, and they want to have a city-wide ball in our honor.”
The medicine Alice had given him started to work, and Gavin’s muscles relaxed. “I’ve never been a hero before. I don’t know how to react.”
“I don’t either, to be honest. I’m letting Phipps handle most of it.”
“Phipps! I’d forgotten all about her. She’s still with us?”
“Oh yes.” Alice folded her arms. “She insists upon coming to China with us. Glenda has already slipped off, back for London. We haven’t heard from Simon, either.”
“And we won’t.” Gavin drained his teacup, then paused. “I have to say… I was hoping…”
Alice grew more serious. “For what?”
“That we might be able to search the laboratory in the Gonta-Zalizniak house. To see if they had found… you know.”
“I do know.” She reached across the table and took his flesh hand in her metal one. “We’ll find a cure. You have time yet, no matter what Dr. Clef thought. We will cure you, we will get married”—her voice began to choke—“and we will have lots of children who will get very, very tired of hearing the same stories of their parents’ adventures over and over again.”
“‘Aw, Dad, not that boring story about Feng at the dam again,’” Gavin said, trying to lighten the mood by imitating a child, except his own voice grew thick. “‘We’ve heard it a million times.’”
“Will they speak with an American accent, do you think? Or a proper English one?”
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with a good Boston accent,” Gavin said, laughing now. Click raised his head. “Don’t forget that we perfected baked beans so you beefeaters could put them on toast.”
Alice was laughing too, and she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Good heavens. I haven’t even told you the best part.”
“There’s more?”
“The paraffin refineries are nowhere near the dam and weren’t touched. Mayor Hrushevsky is insisting we take all the oil we need. The Lady has been restored by his own men, and she is ready to fly when we are.”
Gavin spent three more days recovering. He tired easily and slept a great deal, though he insisted on spending as much time as possible on the Lady, which was tethered just above the mayor’s modest house. It was easier to rest amid the familiar, homey creak of wood and hemp. It also seemed to Gavin that the Lady was pleased to see him. The ship appeared to float more freely, hold herself more steadily when Gavin was aboard, though he didn’t say anything about this to Alice.
When Gavin checked the Lady’s workshop, he was gratified to find the metal project he’d been working on had been moved there from the train, and he spent some time fiddling with it. It was nice to work on something that wasn’t a weapon. The Impossible Cube was locked away in a cupboard. Alice, Gavin, and Phipps didn’t see any need to tell anyone else the particulars of how they had led everyone out of danger. The paradox generator, of course, had been destroyed along with the dam, though Gavin still felt a small twinge at its loss.
Dr. Clef’s notes about the danger of time, space, and energy were also gone, burned by Phipps. Gavin didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had read them and, with a clockworker’s precision, memorized every numeral and symbol. He didn’t intend to use the information, of course. After everything that had happened, it would be foolish in the extreme. Much more interesting to work on his little project.
Now that Gavin was out of danger, Alice set about playing the part of the baroness to the hilt, making speeches and attending parties. Phipps attended most of these events as well, moving easily among the people, pointedly making friends and contacts. Once Gavin had recovered sufficiently to travel—and appear in public—Mayor Hrushevsky declared an entire day of celebration for their send-off to China. He presented Gavin with a new outfit—white airman’s leathers. Gavin found he couldn’t speak.
The ball was both plain and lavish, all at once. Mayor Hrushevsky, a great shaggy man with a long dark beard, insisted that the party be held outdoors in the streets, so it was more like an all-day festival than a ball. The pall of Gonta-Zalizniak rule had lifted, and the people appeared brighter, more cheerful. Even the weather cooperated, granting them a bright, balmy day. Gavin heard Ukrainian music for the first time, and he was enchanted. Street bands and musicians played at nearly every street corner. The mayor opened up the city coffers, and free food was available from stalls every few feet. The electric lights had gone out with the dam, of course, but after sunset people put out lanterns of glass and of colored paper, tinting the city with a hundred lively hues. Alice and Gavin and Phipps wandered about the city, greeted with cheers and laughter wherever they went. They danced to the music, and Gavin held Alice tightly as they whirled through the evening streets.
“Who knew that a cabin boy from Boston would travel so far?” he said to her. “I love you always.”
“And I love you always,” she replied.
When it was time to go, Gavin, Alice, and Phipps returned to the square in front of the mayor’s house and listened to a speech they didn’t understand in the slightest. They smiled and waved to the cheering crowd, Gavin in his new whites, Phipps in her formal reds, and Alice in a Ukrainian-style blouse and skirt, heavily embroidered with tiny cogs and wheels, made just for her by a dozen grateful Kievite women. Click and the automatons, repaired and shined for the occasion, made an honor guard as the trio ascended the ladder to the hovering Lady. The envelope’s curly endoskeleton glowed blue with power from the generator and its generous supply of paraffin oil. The cheers and applause buoyed them up to the starry sky, lifting Gavin’s spirit with every step. When they arrived on the deck, Gavin took the helm and Alice increased power to the generator. The glow intensified, and the ship ascended, higher and higher, until the city became flecks of color on black velvet. A cool breeze washed over him, mixing the scent of purity with the smell of paraffin exhaust. Click took up his usual spot, peering over the side of one gunwale, and the little automatons perched on the ropes or skittered about near Alice. Phipps folded her arms and watched. It was a thrill to be back in his rightful place, back in the air where he belonged.
And yet…
Once they established a heading east and the nacelle propellers were pushing them along, Gavin asked Phipps to take the helm for a moment. She arched a questioning eyebrow.
“I need to show Alice something below,” he said.
He led Alice down to the laboratory. She looked apprehensive. “It’s not anything bad,” he reassured her.
“You’re not going to propose again, are you?” she said. “I don’t really need—”
“It’s not that, either. I’m just… This is important to me, and I want you to be the first to see.”
Now she looked mystified. “All right.”
The little laboratory had been tidied up in preparation for the trip. Most of the floor space was taken up by a large, bulky object covered in a white cloth. Kemp’s head, the eyes still dark, sat on the worktable. Gavin hoped to figure out a way to restore him, but that wasn’t why he had brought Alice down. His heart was beating fast, and his palms were sweaty, though he couldn’t say why.
“I’ve finished it,” he said lamely. “It’s all done.”
It took her a moment to understand. Then she got it. “The project you started in the circus? That’s wonderful! I’m honored you want to show me, darling. Let’s see it.”
Gavin took a breath and whipped the cloth away. Alice gasped. The framework he had created spread out something like a kite. A battery pack with buckles and straps took up the center. The thousands of alloy rings he wound into a cloak now hung over the framework in waterfall ripples. When extended, they would stretch more than ten feet both left and right.
“Gavin!” Alice breathed. “Are those wings?”