Magnificent Devices Page 15
Claire nodded. He did not release her hand, and if he was content to do so, she was perfectly content to leave it there.
“A pigeon came about three days into the flight. But immediately after that, we ran into a dreadful storm, and—”
“Do not exert yourself. Tigg and the girls told me the whole story on the way here.”
Claire looked over the little assembly. “Mopsies, if Alice was indeed here and not a dream, why do I not see her?”
“She’s probably still at the airfield,” Jake said. “She an’ Alaia’s boys were talkin’ so long wiv these airmen friends o’ hers that I thought I’d take a reconnoiter meself. When I didn’t find t’Mopsies where we’d left ’em, I headed over to the Lady Lucy. Got there just in time to see Lizzie clock Mr. Malvern wiv a brick.”
“Lizzie!” Claire looked down at her, shocked to the core.
“I thought ’e were an intruder,” Lizzie said in her own defense. “An’ I missed anyhow.”
“What was in this letter you were talkin’ about?” Tigg asked. “Mr. Malvern, I can’t figure why you’re here and not in the laboratory in London.”
“All in good time.” Andrew smiled and finally released Claire’s hand. “It sounds like we owe this Alice a great debt for saving your lives.”
“Jake, too,” Lizzie said. “Tell ’em what you and Alice did, Jake.”
Uncomfortable in the spotlight, Jake shifted and cleared his throat. “We put the locomotive tower’s engine in the Stalwart Lass and came after the Lady and the girls.”
“Wait—you did what?” Andrew leaned forward to look into Jake’s eyes. “Two of you put a locomotive engine in an airship? How is that possible?”
“It weren’t really a locomotive engine. It were an airship engine, but it runs the tower just fine. And we ’ad ’elp. Half a dozen automatons, easy. They’re a lot stronger’n they look. They made a good crew, too, once we was in the air.”
Goodness. A vision of a miniature army of automatons carrying bits of engine from one vessel to another played across Claire’s mind. On one hand, what a triumph of engineering it must have been. On the other, they were automatons, bronze and faceless and mindless. And she had been unconscious and surrounded by them on the Lass. She swallowed.
“Where did the automatons come from?” Andrew asked with interest.
It was best he did not know their actual provenance. “Alice made them. She is a young lady of singular resources.”
“I look forward to making her acquaintance. Very much so.”
Hmph. Were her accomplishments as nothing? It was quite clearly time to change the subject.
“Now you must tell us your adventures,” she said. “Including the parts about Lord James. I have a feeling our tales will dovetail rather neatly toward the end.”
Andrew got to his feet and removed his canvas coat, while Claire and the Mopsies settled more comfortably against the bolster.
“As I said in my letter, the night of the exhibition at the Crystal Palace, James came to an agreement with a consortium of Texican railroad men and made off with the Selwyn Kinetick Carbonator. They had passage on a private merchant ship belonging to one of them, but I was able to leave the next morning on a Zeppelin vessel out of Hamburg going to New York. Once there, I made inquiries and learned that the Texican vessel was bound for Santa Fe, which is the capital of this territory.”
Claire nodded, encouraging him to go on.
“When I arrived here, I realized that learning their intentions was paramount. They might choose to duplicate the Carbonator and build the devices here, or they might ship the Carbonator to some other location. They might even begin processing coal.”
“Did you find out?” Tigg asked with the seriousness of a fellow scientist. He, after all, had as much invested in the Carbonator as any of them.
“I could not just hang about the railroad offices and eavesdrop, so I did the next best thing. I signed on as a laborer in the yard. They soon realized I had more skills than loading cars, so they moved me into the laboratory, where I had a fair task ahead of me to stay out of sight whenever James or one of the barons was on the premises. They’d all met me at the Crystal Palace, you see.”
“Did you succeed?” Claire asked.
“I did. I found out that they plan to carbonate an entire trainload of coal and send a locomotive from here to San Francisco on the new Nevada Territory line as a kind of demonstration. They plan to sell a device like ours to the Royal Kingdom of Spain, you see. The Spaniards are building locomotives with the plan to run railways all the way down to South America.”
“How will they get past the Texicans?” Claire asked. She had seen the charts. “The Territory covers nearly the entire southern half of the continent.”
“Ah, but there are no railways directly to South America. The Spaniards are building lines down the west coast to evade the Texican tariffs, and you can bet the government in Texico City will not be happy about it.”
“The money to be made will be astronomical,” Claire murmured.
“And the carbonated coal is light, hard, and lasts a long time,” Tigg said. “If you’re aiming for speed, you can’t stop to load your tender, can you?”
“What villains they are,” Claire breathed. “Go behind the Texican government’s back to supply the Spaniards, then claim innocence and rake in the money.”
“With our device,” Tigg said indignantly.
Claire’s lips firmed. “I think not.”
Andrew nodded, following her train of thought as though he had had the same one. “The Carbonator is heavily guarded, but there are brief periods when the guard changes and it could be possible to slip past. The power cell you and Dr. Craig developed is not so large that it could not be spirited out. And without the cell, of course, they have nothing.”
“They’re probably already working on more of ’em,” Tigg said. “Wouldn’t make sense to risk something happening to the one.”
“You are quite correct. I have already seen the prototypes. Time is of the essence,” Andrew agreed. “With assistance, I could repossess the cell as soon as tomorrow night.”
Jake, who had not said a word during the tale, nodded now. “We could use a mission. Keep our ’ands in, like.”
“You’ll need scouts,” Lizzie said.
“And someone who knows ’is way round bolts and suchlike,” Tigg put in.
“I could not ask it of you all.” Andrew seemed to have realized a moment too late that he was proposing that a group of children engage in criminal activity on foreign soil. “I will hazard the task alone.”
“You would be foolish to do so,” Claire told him. Her energy was rapidly seeping away.
Andrew’s gaze became concerned. “We will discuss this in the morning. The moon is probably setting and you will be no use to anyone if you do not get some rest.” He chivvied them out of the room.
“A moment, Andrew.” When he returned alone to her side, she gathered her strength. “You will be careful on this enterprise?”
“I have had several days to reconnoiter the hangars and laboratory,” he said. “Have no fear. You must concentrate on getting well.” The assurance faded from his expression and he started to speak, then thought better of it. After a moment of struggle, he finally blurted, “Claire, I know it is none of my business, but considering James’s behavior, I must ask you to reconsider your engagement to him.” When she only stared, he rushed on, “I know what you are thinking. I am only the son of a policeman and a cook, and these things are done differently in Blood circles. But can you not—I cannot bear to think—” His voice stumbled into silence. “I apologize,” he said finally, and had taken two steps toward the door before Claire found her voice.
“Andrew, I have not been engaged to James Selwyn since the night he stole the Carbonator.”
He turned, stiffly. When his gaze found her face, his eyes were blazing. “You have not?”
She struggled to sit higher against the bolster. �
��He removed my name from the patent that night, so as not to shock Ross Stephenson. He said he would reinstate it as a wedding gift. And at that moment I realized he would never do it—he would use it as a carrot for years to come, and expect me to follow it as obediently as a brood mare. I broke it off that same moment.”
“You are not engaged to him,” he repeated. He took a step closer. “You are a free woman.”
“As free as you.”
Another step. “I have not been free since the moment you knocked on the door of my laboratory.” The sound of voices came from outside the door. “Claire, would you—”
The door flew open and Alice burst into the room like a whirlwind. Her hair was a wild tangle, and there appeared to be pieces of those tumbling weeds stuck in it. One sleeve of her cotton shirt had been torn out, and her knuckles were scraped raw. She had either been dragged some distance by a vehicle, or had been in a fight.
“Claire, you’re awake! I’ll tell you, you gave me quite a scare. Listen, you’ll never guess who I—oh, I’m sorry. You have company.”
Claire released a long breath and with it, any hope of knowing what the conclusion to Andrew’s question might have been.
“Alice. We’ve all been worried about you. I’m glad you’re back. But are you all right?”
“Not near as worried as I’ve been about you.” She paused. “I’m fine. Just a little dustup. Are you going to introduce me?”
Exhausted as she was, the situation was too interesting to ignore. “Do you not know?”
Alice looked puzzled. And awkward. And a trifle embarrassed. “Um. No.” Gamely, she held out a hand to Andrew. “I’m Alice Chalmers. Sorry about the mess.”
Andrew looked equally puzzled, but it was quite likely about Claire’s behavior. She could not resist. “Cast this face as a daguerreotype, perhaps. And surround it with print—an article on the properties of coal. Give it a byline, one that says—”
Alice gasped, and covered her mouth with filthy fingers. “It can’t be,” she whispered.
Andrew had clearly had enough of being sported with, particularly so soon after … whatever he had been going to say. He bowed. “Do forgive Lady Claire, Alice. She is not in full control of her faculties just now.”
“Not in—!”
Andrew ignored her and spoke to Alice. “I am Andrew Malvern, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. I do hope you fared better than the other person.”
“Andrew Malvern,” Alice whispered. “The Andrew Malvern, of the Royal Society of Engineers?”
Andrew peered at her, as though doubting the strength of her mind. “The very one. Have you read one of my monographs?”
Alice grasped her hair in both hands, yanked some dried vegetation out of it, then clapped one palm to her mouth. She dashed to the window, and in the next moment, was violently sick onto the terrace outside.
Chapter 20
Claire woke in the cool dawn feeling much better than she had in days. Whatever the herbs or chemicals in the drink Alaia plied her with every hour, they certainly worked. She touched her face. Even the sunburn had cooled to the point where she did not feel her skin would crack and bleed should she smile.
Alice stirred on the pallet next to the bed, and sat up with a groan. She clutched both sides of her head as though it were a melon ready to burst open. “Please tell me I didn’t toss my innards in front of Andrew Malvern last night.”
“Not directly in front of him. You made it to the window in time. Are you ill, dear?” Alice looked utterly miserable. Claire reached for the mug half full of the healing liquid, and offered it to her.
Alice drank it down. “No, not ill.” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, having gone to sleep fully clothed. “It’s the mescala. Never, ever drink that stuff, Claire. It’s poison.”
“Is it some form of liquor?”
Alice nodded miserably. “We met a couple of the pilots who fly the Ranger airships, and in the party were some airmen from the Canadas. Me and Alaia’s boys thought we might get some good information, and I guess we did, but then they started in on the mescala. One thing led to another and we … well, one of them said something Luis didn’t like, and then Alvaro went to his defense, and I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, so …” She sighed. “It was a mill, plain and simple. So of course that had to be the night I meet Andrew Malvern.” She buried her face against her knees. “I want to die.”
“Have some more of Alaia’s cordial. It’s in that lovely pottery jug with the spider pattern.”
“Not about that.” Her voice was muffled. “About being the ugliest, most harum-scarum idiot that ever made a man run for the nearest ship.”
“Oh, Alice.” Claire touched her hair, and the girl actually flinched. “Come and sit by me.”
Reluctantly, Alice hefted herself up on the bed and they both leaned their backs against the wall. Claire tucked the blanket around their legs. “Look. From here we can see the sun rise.”
“I wouldn’t be getting too excited about the sun just yet. You need to stay out of it until your skin heals some more.”
“I know. But what I was really pointing out is that today is another day, fresh and new, with no mistakes in it yet for either of us.”
Alice would not look at her. “What must he think of me?”
“He will think that you are the one who saved our lives. Who engineered the Stalwart Lass so she could fly again. He knows about your automatons, and I must say, he is impressed.”
“He won’t be so impressed with the sorry reality.”
“Why does it matter so much?” Claire asked gently. “He is a stranger to you, and once our aims here are accomplished, he will likely be going back to London.”
“It’s stupid, I know. But I admire him so much, and—and—oh, never mind.”
Admire? This was not the despondency of unrequited admiration. Claire was not sure exactly what it was, but she was determined to see her spirits revived. She could not bear to see her friend so cast down, after all she had risked for them.
“I suppose you’ll be going back to London with him?” Alice asked, gazing at the clouds through the window, which were streaked with red and orange that might have seeped from the mesas themselves.
“No.” She would not be eighteen for another three weeks, and she was taking no chances. James might be a mere two miles away, but the laws of the Empire did not apply here in the Texican Territory. He could force her to do nothing. “My original plan was to meet friends in the Canadas—in Edmonton—and visit the diamond mines. I am already a week late, so I must let them know I am alive, and find my way there somehow.”
At last Alice slid a glance her way. “We could go in the Stalwart Lass.”
“Alice, you cannot steal your father’s airship and go gallivanting about the continent.” Claire’s face felt almost natural as her eyebrows rose. The skin was tight, but at least it did not feel as though it would peel right off.
Alice pleated the patterned blanket between her fingers. “Pa was pretty mad about me helping you. It was either leave town or get shot, so I left. I don’t expect I’ll ever go back.”
“I’m so sorry.” She hesitated, then plunged on. “My father removed himself from me. He—he shot himself rather than face the poverty he had himself created.”
Alice’s lips trembled around the edges. “I’m sorry to hear it, Claire. But Ned Mose—he ain’t really my pa anyhow. He’s just living with my ma. My real pa went off to seek his fortune and—removed himself, like you say. Maybe now I can pick up his trail.” Life came back into her voice. “One of those airmen from last night—an old-timer—said he remembered a man with one blind eye working on one of his crews in the Canadas. My pa was a mechanic—he lost his eye to one of his early machines. I suppose that’s where I get it. Mechanics, I mean. Not blind eyes.”
“Then we must go together, as soon as our work here is done.”
“What exactly are you all up to? I’d have thought you’d be
off on the Lady Lucy.”
“Tigg said he’d found the girls and Mr. Malvern ready to board her. It would not surprise me if she lifts soon—I imagine Lady Dunsmuir will be anxious to put this country behind her. I wonder if the Dunsmuirs know yet that I am alive?”
And that Rosie still had their diamonds in her possession. She must get up and see about returning them, if indeed they were planning to leave soon.
“We’ll ask him. Come on. My stomach could use some of Alaia’s poh-soh-lay. It’s guaranteed to bring even the dead back to life.”
Claire threw the blanket back. “Let us hope not. I will settle for breakfast.”
*
“The Lady Lucy? This morning?” Tigg could not have looked more dismayed if Claire had said she was going to leap off the cliff stair. “Lady, are you mad? Lord James could be aboard. ’E came to dinner last night like some fine gentleman and hoodwinked ’is lordship well and truly.”
Claire spooned up the last of her poh-soh-lay and Alaia filled the bowl before she even swallowed. A flat wheel of unleavened bread lay in the center of the table, nearly all consumed. It had arrived bubbling with cheese and a paste made of beans and layers of tomato, corn, and small green chiles. Claire could not imagine what such a thing might taste like, but she was a believer now. A lady might not be permitted to take a second helping, but in the Texican Territory, ladies had to adapt.
Before Tigg could become any more upset on her behalf, Alice gave him a companionable nudge with her shoulder. “Truth is, youngster, this James person owes her one. She saved his life the other night.”
Claire nodded at her to go on. If she wanted to speak of her stepfather’s criminal behavior, then it was her place to do so, and Claire would not claim the story.
Andrew stopped shoveling in his flatbread, which he had rolled into a tube, the better to preserve its ingredients. “You saved James’s life? After what he did?”
“The man who skyjacked the Lady Lucy and all aboard was the man I’ve called my pa for the past dozen years,” Alice said. “It’s no secret he’s a sky pirate and a heartless man, but if not for him, the town of Resolution probably wouldn’t exist.”