by Lev AC Rosen
And the newcomers. She liked them, too. They were fine additions to their little group. She sat down with them.
“We took off early,” Toby said to her, and reached under the table to clasp her hand firmly in his. “We all had rotten days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Miriam said. They had all clearly had quite a bit to drink already, and were probably determined to become very drunk, and test Toby’s elixir in the morning. She slid Toby’s glass away from him and took a swig from it. She loved Toby, and his hand in hers made her heart float lazily on a river within her.
“I killed a pigeon,” Jack said with a frown.
“Part of your singing ferret experiment, for Cecily?”
“Yes,” Jack said wistfully, perking up at the thought of Cecily, and then frowning again. “But it’s nowhere near ready yet. Don’t tell her I killed a pigeon.”
“I can’t even tell her that I see you outside of Illyria,” Miriam said. “Thank you, both of you,” she said, including Ashton, “for not mentioning that to Cecily.”
“You saw Cecily today, too?” Jack asked.
“Yes,” Ashton said, “she came down to see me. And actually, if all goes well, she can help me.”
“Help you?” Jack asked, stricken.
“With my machine. With the engine, really. If her clay works out, then we can mold the parts from it, so they don’t wear down as fast. It would be brilliant if it worked.”
“What are you upset about?” Miriam asked Ashton.
“He got picked on by Bracknell,” Jack said, “just ’cause his dad’s an astronomer.”
“Bracknell est un con,” Miriam said. “He pinched my bottom once as he passed me in the hall.”
“He what?” Toby roared.
“Calm down,” Miriam said. “I forbid you to get yourself in trouble defending my honor.”
“Oh,” Toby said, and slumped down.
“Do I smell funny?” Drew asked.
Everyone was silent until Ashton said, “Yes, but it’s fading.”
Jack laughed, then told Ashton, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she visited you.” Miriam narrowed her eyes. She expected jealousy, maybe competition, but Jack was acting as though Ashton’s befriending of Cecily somehow benefited him. “Did you talk to her about me?”
“No,” Ashton said, “we spoke only of science.”
“Oh,” Jack said, disappointed. “Well, next time, tell her what a great fellow I am, will you?”
“Sure,” Ashton said.
“We have to figure out how to help Miriam,” Toby announced suddenly.
“I thought we were going to Ashton’s cousin Ashton,” Drew said, snickering.
“I can’t believe you didn’t think to tell her how great I was today,” Jack said to Ashton.
“It didn’t cross my mind,” Ashton said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yes,” Toby continued, “we will ask Ashton’s cousin Ashton to write the notes, but we should tell him what he has to say.”
“Well, clearly, the notes have to say that Cecily can’t speak to him in public,” Miriam said.
“Yeah,” Drew said, “’cause otherwise the duke might see, ’n’ get real mad.”
“Good,” Toby said, slapping Drew on the back.
“And we could make him do loads of crazy shit,” Drew continued, “like wear ugly yellow pants. Backwards!” He burst out laughing at this thought and slapped the table loudly.
“I don’t think we should do anything too odd,” Miriam said, “or he might catch on.”
“Right,” Toby said, “we just have to keep leading him on: ‘I think you’re a fine chap, Volio. It’s only that I can’t ever pretend to know you in public or speak two words to you. You understand, right?’ That sort of thing.”
“I think Ashton’s cousin Ashton could handle that,” Jack said, smirking. “Quite well, in fact.” Ashton nodded.
“Well, good, then,” Toby said.
“There’s something that bothers me,” Ashton said, looking at Miriam.
“What?” Miriam asked.
“Well, you said Volio’s elder brother made weapons—automata with pistols for hands—and led them out of the school without anyone knowing where they came from.”
“Yes,” Miriam said.
“And Volio somehow found us that night when we came in through the basement. He couldn’t have just been dawdling about in the lobby.”
“I thought so as well,” Miriam said.
“And then when we were initiated—when we explored the basement, we found these peculiar skeleton automata. And a locked door,” Ashton said, looking at Miriam. Miriam watched as his eyes unfocused and then refocused. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“I think you are suggesting that Volio’s elder brother had knowledge of the basement which he shared with his brother.” Miriam said, “Secret knowledge. Perhaps a special room—though how they would have access, I don’t know.”
“We should go back!” Drew said, standing up suddenly. Everyone looked at him. “Yeah, we should go, and find those automata again, and give ’em a good smashin’. Then, we can break down the door, and see if it’s Volio hiding there.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, looking amused. “That could be right fun.”
“And it would keep me stimulated,” Drew said.
Miriam inwardly groaned. This was not how she wanted to spend her evening. She appealed to Toby. “Wouldn’t you rather just stay here?” she asked as sweetly as possible, “drinking with me?”
“You’ll come with us,” Toby said. “Besides, this is for you. If it is Volio, and he’s making some sort of weapons like his brother, then we can blackmail him back, and then you don’t have to play his soddin’ game at all.”
Miriam smiled. He was really very sweet. Not quite a knight in shining armor, but almost. She sighed, rose from the table, and downed what was left in Toby’s glass. The rest of them stood as well, and headed for the door.
Outside, it had turned completely dark, and the streetlamps glowed yellow. Down here, in the less fashionable parts of London, the streetlamps were still gas, and they made a hissing noise, as if fighting back the darkness of night by scolding it.
They piled into a cab and headed back to Illyria, where they sneaked through the garden and into the secret basement entrance. The others were stumbling. Ashton in particular seemed to be having trouble walking, but Jack took his arm and propped him up.
“Is this his first time drunk, you think?” Miriam asked Toby, nodding at Ashton.
“Nah,” Toby said. “Us lads start getting drunk before we’re ten. It’s you ladies who don’t experience the bliss of sheer inebriation until later in life.”
Miriam snorted. “You’ve clearly never been to a French seder,” she said.
“What?” He looked confused. Miriam just shook her head and stepped carefully down into the basement.
“Where was it?” Drew said, peering around the basement. The floors were thick with greasy dust, and only a few electric lights flickered dimly. No one spoke.
Miriam realized what a bad idea this was: hunting through a labrythine basement with a group of drunken students for weapons that were liable to attack them. She cleared her throat. “Maybe we should try this another evening.”
“We’re doing this for you, love,” Toby replied, and held her hand tight in the darkness. There was nothing she could say to that.
“It was this way!” Jack said.
“Wait a sec,” Ashton said, fussing with his jacket pocket. “I always bring it with me … just in … in case,” he mumbled, pulling something out of the pocket. In a moment, a beam of light shot out from his hand. Miriam was impressed. She’d seen many marvelous inventions over the years in Illyria, but nothing so practical.
They headed forward into the darkness, Miriam tracing her finger through the grime on the walls, so they could find their way back easily. She was concerned, but not overly frightened.
She had heard of the various initiations over the years, and knew that the first-years’ minds could play tricks on them. Most likely, they’d find a suit of rusty display armor, or something to that effect. And yet, she had also heard stories while sitting at the professors’ table. None of the current professors had been around when the building was constructed, and few of them went down there regularly, but when they did, they found the place eerie, and imagined hearing noises. The duke was always curiously mute on the subject, never mentioning anything about the basement, or its construction. Probably just tricks of the mind, as Prism said, though, Prism had those ridiculous glasses, which made it much easier to trick his mind. She told herself it was perfectly safe down here, despite the occasional feeling of something brushing up against her skirts when she could see nothing, or the soft creaking and sighing noises that came from the darkness. It had to be. The duke couldn’t keep a cellar full of monsters a secret, could he?
“It was up here, I think,” Drew said, pointing down a dark corridor. Slowly, they advanced down the hall.
Jack saw them first and gasped, causing everyone to stop. Slowly, Ashton raised his beam of light and pointed it at the mound of metal at the end of the hall. They were right, Miriam thought: It did look like a bunch of metal skeletons. And all different metals, too: copper and iron, and maybe even silver and gold, though why anyone would gild so complex a machine, she didn’t know.
They stepped closer, and the closest skeletons seemed to sense them, turning their heads toward the approaching party. Miriam gasped.
“What’s really odd,” Ashton whispered, “is that they look so bloody familiar, but I don’t know what it is they remind me of … or whom.”
But Miriam did. It was a crude imitation, to be sure, but the skull staring at them was familiar to her. The jutting metal cheeks, the rounded depressions around the eyes, the shape of the jaw and forehead—she had worked for that skull for the past six years. It was unmistakably the face of Ernest, the Duke of Illyria.
XIII.
JACK Feste knew a lot about skin. He had studied all kinds of skin over the years: cat and dog skin, ferret skin, rat skin, snakeskin, elephant skin, horse skin, and human skin. He knew which skins were thickest and thinnest, which resisted heat or cold the best, which shed in perfect crystal shapes, and which flaked off like white powder. He knew how it flexed and clung to muscle in over a dozen species, and he knew for certain that it was quite impossible for a human being to actually jump out of his or her skin without previous scientific modification.
That didn’t stop him from feeling as though he had leapt out of his skin when he saw one of the automata clamor to life, stand up, and stare directly at him. It was a monstrous thing: not really human looking, but too human to be a machine. It had long, heavy iron legs with tubes of some sort coming out the back of the thighs and back into the shins. The legs were sculpted and muscular, but the feet were heavy slabs of metal and gears. The torso was more skeletal, almost like a small tree with three branches curving out at the top. From two of the branches hung long, mechanical arms, one ending in sharp scissorlike pincers, and the other ending in what looked to be an actual hand, though it shone slightly in the light, so it could have been well-crafted copper or bronze. The head was most frightening—barren and metallic: not quite human, but unsettlingly close. It had no mouth, not even a small hole, and no eyes, just deep depressions in the skull, but Jack could still feel it staring at him, some small awareness analyzing him from those dark crevices. It seemed to pulse slightly, and let off a low hissing noise, like a snake about to strike.
Violet let out a shriek—very unmanly; Jack would have to talk to her about that later if they survived—and the automaton turned its gaze to her. Jack swallowed.
“Bloody hell,” Toby whispered, then burped. Jack felt a chilly line of sweat drip down the nape of his neck. The automaton took a halting step toward them. The very sharp pincers on its right hand clanged open and then closed, its points focused on Violet. It paused and looked down at its own hand and opened and closed the pincers again, as if pleased with its killing power. Then it looked back up at them. If it had had a mouth, Jack thought, it would have been smiling sinisterly.
“Run,” Miriam said, and they all took her advice, speeding back down the hall they’d come from. Jack heard the automaton take a few fast and heavy steps, following after them, then heard Toby let out a low bellow of pain. Jack looked back, but Toby was still running, and he waved Jack on. The automaton paused to look at its own feet; then it turned and stared up at them again with the same evil no-smile. He turned back around, his breath ragged, and they ran on, not following any particular path. Though the drunkenness had been scared out of him by now, Jack had no real idea where they were, and he doubted anyone else did, either.
“This way,” Miriam said, dashing around a corner, lifting her skirts nearly to her knees as she ran. They followed. A few minutes later, they stopped, panting and leaning against the filthy walls. Jack listened for the sound of following metallic footsteps, but heard nothing.
“That was a very stupid idea,” Jack said through heavy gasps.
“You’re hurt,” Miriam said to Toby, who was clutching his arm. A long bloody gash ran over his shoulder, his jacket, shirt, and skin all torn. Jack took off his jacket and shirt and tore the latter into strips, applying them carefully and silently to Toby’s wound.
“Those things were less scary last time,” Toby said. “I mean, last time, they didn’t get up and look at us. They just sort of reached out.”
“This one was new,” Violet said. She was bent over and staring at the ground, trying to regain her breath. “Nothing that sophisticated was there last time.”
“New?” Miriam asked. “You mean, someone only just made it?”
“Or it was behind that the door,” Drew offered. He seemed to be the least out of breath, and in fact was grinning as though he was having a wonderful time. “No one could have possibly built that thing in a week, could they?”
Violet shook her head.
“Let’s not come down here again,” Jack offered, still patching up Toby. “Let’s just leave it alone. I’m all for havin’ a bit of adventure, but when killer automata start slashing my mates, it’s not really ‘a bit’ anymore, is it?”
“Aye,” Toby said, wincing.
“We could disable it,” Violet offered. She stood upright now. Jack was alarmed to see that the running had apparently loosened her bindings, for her chest was swelling slightly.
“Maybe,” Jack said. He patted Toby lightly on his back. “There. We should stop by the biological lab; then I can fix it up even better. But this’ll hold you till we’re out of here.”
“Thanks,” Toby said. Miriam slung Toby’s good arm over her shoulder, so he could lean on her if the pain increased.
“Let’s find our way out,” Jack said.
“Follow me,” Miriam said, and led them back to the entrance.
“How did you do that?” Toby asked when they arrived. He was grinning.
“I thought like Ariadne,” she said, and kissed him on the mouth. Jack looked away, embarrassed.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Toby said, “but you’re a wonderful woman.”
“Ariadne,” Miriam said. “She helped Theseus navigate the … It’s amazing how I am surrounded by geniuses who seem to know nothing.”
“I know a thing or two,” Toby said, still grinning. “It is only the classics where my mind becomes fuzzy. I am too modern a man to be bogged down by the past. But I think it’s time to sleep now. I’m exhausted. And we have our first of the duke’s lectures tomorrow.”
“Right,” Violet said. “I’ll try to think of a way to disable the automata tomorrow.”
“Very well,” Miriam said, “but you had better be sure. I do not want to go up against that, that—mécanique du diable—unprepared again.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
They stopped briefly at the biological lab
, where Jack cleaned and numbed Toby’s gash, then sewed it up. It was deep, but not very wide, and Jack didn’t think it would leave much of a scar.
“No war wounds for me?” Toby asked.
“Little one,” Jack said. “Just be careful, and let me know right away if the stitches open, or you start bleeding, or it turns a weird color. Don’t want it to become infected. Let’s head to bed now, shall we?”
“Go on ahead,” Toby said to them, and clutched Miriam around the waist. Jack and Violet looked perplexed, but followed Drew into the lift and took it up to the dorms, leaving Toby and Miriam behind.
“Thomas Huxley theorizes that there’s a chemical,” Drew said on the ride up, “in the brain. When we get excited from stress, fear, or such, well, we also turn … romantic.”
“Ah,” Violet said. Jack looked at her. She was blushing bright red.
At the dorm hall, they parted ways with Drew. Violet fell right onto the bed as soon as they closed the door behind them. “That was frightening,” she said. “It almost took my mind off how dizzy I am. Is this being drunk? I have certainly been drinking before—well not been, but I’ve drunk. Not been drunk, simply drunk things that were alcoholic—but never to such excess. I find my head is quite swimming … and I find I cannot keep my thoughts to myself. The drunkeness has taken my mind off how sad I was, too. Do you think I’m going to humiliate my father and drive him out of the scientific community?”
Jack looked at her. Perhaps it wasn’t from blushing that she was red. “I don’t think you could ever do anything that wouldn’t result in your father loving you and being proud of you,” he said.
Violet smiled. “You’re very sweet,” she said, “when you want to be.”