The Dragon Men

by Steven Harper

  Su Shun groaned softly.

  “What must we do about the Jade Hand?” Li said in both Chinese and English. “Young Lord Zaichun is here. We could—”

  A few paces away, something clunked to the ground and clattered away. Startled, Alice picked the object up. It was a Dragon Man’s salamander, bent and broken from the impact. What on earth?

  Trying to understand, she peered upward. A figure was falling toward the courtyard. As it grew closer, she could make out the tattered remnants of wings. Her heart jerked. Gavin! He plummeted straight toward the stones near her feet. His arms pinwheeled—he was still alive.

  Alice made a wordless scream. She had already let him go. She couldn’t watch him die. But there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t fly. She couldn’t catch him. There was nothing for him to land—

  Click meowed again from his spot near the Ebony Chamber. With chilly fingers, Alice snatched it up. The lid was still open from when Su Shun had opened it so Gavin could put the Cube inside. Not quite believing her own audacity, she ran forward with it. This had to work, this had to work, this had to work.

  “Ennock!” Phipps barked. “Dive! Dive, you fool!”

  Somehow, Gavin heard and understood. Perhaps it was the last of the clockwork plague still at work augmenting his mind, or perhaps it was sheer luck operating in their favor at last. He twisted round and came down, hands first, straight as an arrow. Alice maneuvered the Ebony Chamber directly beneath him and held her breath. Gavin slammed headfirst into the Chamber. White light and a terrible noise exploded in all directions. Blind, Alice staggered but managed to stay upright. The lid crashed shut in her hands, and Alice blinked her vision clear. She found herself standing alone in the courtyard and holding the Ebony Chamber. The remnants of Gavin’s shattered wings lay in pieces all about her. They had been sheared clean off. Of Gavin himself there was no sign. The Chamber felt the same—no heavier or lighter than before.

  Trembling with fear and uncertainty, Alice set the Chamber down.

  “What happened?” Phipps asked beside her. Click had followed her down the steps. “Is he alive or is he dead?”

  “I can’t tell.” Alice clenched her hands. Dread and doubt made cold lumps inside. Her words came out in tiny bursts. “Oh God, I have no idea. I’m scared to open it and find out. It’s safer not to know.”

  “Just do it,” Phipps said tightly.

  The phoenix latch still read 000. Her breath quick and frightened, Alice unlocked the latch and opened the Chamber. Its hinges creaked like quiet laughter or a soft scream, Alice couldn’t tell which. She held her breath and peered inside.

  The box was empty.

  “No,” she whispered. “No. Please.”

  She reached into the box and felt around, as if that might change something. But all she touched was unyielding wood. Gavin was gone.

  Sorrow crushed Alice to the ground. She knelt amid the shattered remains of Gavin’s wings and pounded the stones on either side of the Ebony Chamber with her bare fists, not feeling the pain in her hands, only the pain in her heart. The solid stones refused to swallow her up. They left her there, cold and alone. Susan finally drew her up and away.

  “Come along,” she said. “We set out to stop a war, and we saved the world instead. Thanks to him and thanks to you.”

  Alice shook her head and choked out, “What kind of world takes away the one who saves it?”

  But Phipps had no answer.

  Lady Orchid, meanwhile, removed the battery pack from Su Shun’s back, set it on the ground, and raised the wire sword high with her good hand. Her son stood next to her on the steps, looking pale. Both were still wet from the well. By now, eunuchs and maids were moving into the courtyard from other parts of the Forbidden City. Most had fled the buildings when the tremors began and were now coming to a more central area for news. Surprise rippled through them when they saw the emperor half conscious on the stone steps and the Jade Hand in the grip of the Imperial Concubine. Alice saw Prince Kung, and with him were a great many soldiers. Her two whirligig automatons zipped in to land on her shoulders.

  “I declare Su Shun a traitor to the people of China,” Lady Orchid called over the nighttime crowd, and Phipps hastened to translate. “Proof lies here, in the way the Jade Hand has rejected him.”

  Zaichun picked up the Jade Hand. The bit of Su Shun’s wrist left inside the Jade Hand chose that moment to slide out and flop to the steps at Lady Orchid’s feet. The crowd murmured.

  “No.” Su Shun got to his hands and knees, shaking his head.

  “See how he kneels before the true emperor,” Lady Orchid continued. “See how he confesses his guilt. And there is but one punishment for treason.”

  Su Shun started to rise farther, but Lady Orchid was quick. She flicked the sword down. Although Su Shun saw it coming, he couldn’t move out of the way. His eyes went wide as the vibrating blade sliced through his brass-bound neck, leaving no blood. His head tumbled down the steps, crunching and clattering, to fetch up at Li’s feet. His empty eyes stared upward; his brass jaw gaped. Li shoved the head aside with his foot, and it rolled away like a piece of trash. Alice thought she should feel ill or upset, but she could only think of Gavin and the awful hole in her life. There was a brief silence, and then the crowd of maids and eunuchs cheered.

  “The reign of the despot is over,” Lady Orchid continued. “The true emperor stands before you now.”

  Zaichun gulped, set his face, and took a step forward. But Lady Orchid shut the sword off, dropped it, and took the Jade Hand from Zaichun. To the amazement of Alice and everyone else in the assembled crowd, Lady Orchid slid the Jade Hand over the stump of her right wrist. The hand jerked. It moved and clicked and inserted wires and metal strips. When it finished, Lady Orchid, in obvious pain but doing her best to hide it, raised the Jade Hand high. It glowed green.

  “The hand has accepted a new emperor,” she boomed. “One who will govern all of China with a firm and just rule.”

  The stunned crowd remained silent. Alice understood. The idea of a female emperor was unthinkable, impossible. The Jade Hand lent her some credibility, but—

  “Bring forth the Ebony Chamber!” Lady Orchid commanded.

  Before Alice could quite comprehend what was going on, Lieutenant Li brought the dark box with its gold dragons up the steps to Lady Orchid. Zaichun stared uncertainly. Li knelt at Lady Orchid’s feet and knocked his head on the stones just as a soldier would for an emperor. The crowd murmured again.

  “Rise, General,” Lady Orchid said, and the promotion wasn’t lost on Li—or Phipps. He handed her the Ebony Chamber. Lady Orchid showed it to the crowd with the grace and style of a magician and then pressed the Jade Hand to the phoenix latch. The Hand glowed green. Understanding swept over Alice a second before the next event happened. The Ebony Chamber exploded open, and Gavin tumbled out onto the steps. His pale hair was disheveled and his clothes were torn, but he was alive.

  “Gavin!” The greatest joy of her life overtook Alice. She rushed up the steps and swept him into her arms, or perhaps he swept her into his. Her automatons squeaked and leaped away, propellers whirling madly. And then Gavin was kissing her, and she didn’t care who was watching or how many people saw. Her Gavin was here, and she would never be apart from him again.

  “I love you always,” he whispered.

  “I love you always,” she whispered back.

  “Long live Emperor Cixi!” Prince Kung bellowed. “Long live Emperor Cixi!”

  Kung’s soldiers quickly joined in, which encouraged the others. Shouts and chants swirled around Alice, who was lost in Gavin’s embrace. And then everyone fell slowly silent. Alice and Gavin parted, and she saw that the hundreds and hundreds of people—soldiers, eunuchs, maids, and even Dragon Men—in the courtyard had stopped chanting to kneel and knock their foreheads on the ground, formally acknowledging Cixi as emperor. Even Zaichun was on his knees. Gavin hesitated, then bowed deeply to her, and Alice sank into a curtsy. It wasn’
t strictly correct to make such obeisance to a foreign monarch, but the gesture would only solidify Cixi’s hold on the throne, and after everything the woman had been through, Alice would be the last person to stand in her way.

  * * *

  Gavin came awake, slowly and luxuriously. Drowsiness slid away like a silken coverlet, and he essayed a stretch. The muscles in his back moved with easy smoothness. Soft fingers brushed his forehead, and he opened his eyes. Alice smiled gently down at him. He smiled lazily back and pushed himself upright.

  “What are you doing in here?” he asked lightly. “This is my room.”

  Alice, who was perched on the edge of his bed, ran her hand down his arm. She wore a new outfit in the Manchu style—wide trousers and a long coat over it in embroidered blue silk. A whirligig sat on her shoulder. “Just watching you sleep, darling. You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t bear to wake you.”

  “It was just a nap. Besides, you can always wake me, Alice. Any time.”

  “A nap?” She laughed. “Gavin, you slept all day and all night.”

  “Did I? It felt like only a few minutes. I haven’t slept that long since I contracted—”

  “I know. I know!” Alice was beaming now, and joyful tears stood in her eyes. “Oh, Gavin! I can’t believe you did it.”

  “We did it,” he said, trying himself not to tear up. “Both of us.”

  He kissed her, and now he felt the joy and relief carrying him up into pure sunshine. Fear and sadness melted into the ground, leaving only exultation and anticipation. An entire life stretched ahead of him, an entire life with Alice, and it started here. He ran his hands over her face and her shoulders, wanting to merge with her like two droplets of water. Nothing would separate them again, and the thrill was so powerful, it stole his breath.

  But at last they separated. “That,” Alice said, “was a wonderful kiss.”

  “I’ve got lots more,” he said with mock seriousness. He started to stretch again, then halted. “Oh! Oh my God.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He grinned, surprised that he could feel even more wonderful. “I just realized—I slept and woke up. Like a normal person. First time since that day the pirates captured the Juniper. No nightmares, no jerking awake. I’d forgotten what it was like.”

  She grinned back. “That’s fantastic! I’m so glad for you. No, that sounds tepid. I’m thrilled, darling, absolutely thrilled!”

  They embraced again, and he sighed as her arms went back around him. It felt so good to be alone with her here in Prince Kung’s palace, far away from the chaos of the Forbidden City. The rooms Kung had set aside for Gavin were large and luxurious. A set of sliding doors opened onto a tranquil courtyard, where the sun was peeping over the compound walls. Soft summer breezes slid idly through the room, carrying the scent of flowers and running water.

  “What’s Lady Orchid doing now?” Gavin asked when at last they parted.

  “Her name is actually Cixi, I’ve learned, and she’s very busy consolidating her new empire,” Alice told him. “She’s grateful to her new friends from England. I also hear she was quite upset that she wasn’t able to fulfill her promise of finding a cure for the clockwork plague.”

  “Well, that was only because I . . . it doesn’t really matter,” Gavin finished lamely.

  “It does to her. The Chinese take these debts seriously. At any rate, she persuaded the Dragon Men to do some final work.”

  “Persuaded?”

  “The Jade Hand doesn’t control them anymore. She has to persuade them like anyone else must. I expect it must be very trying.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure. But the plague is gone. How are there still Dragon Men?”

  “Your . . . cure affects different people differently, darling. Some Dragon Men—and, I assume, clockworkers—became normal men and women right away. For others, their intelligence seems to be fading gradually over time. It appears that a tiny minority may even retain their powerful intellect, though whether they’ll go mad or not remains to be seen.” She paused. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m not sure.” He thought a moment, trying to find the patterns and the particles. But all he saw was an airy room. And Alice. Always Alice. “I’m not very . . . I don’t think I’m a clockworker anymore.”

  She breathed out heavily. “Oh, darling. That relieves me more than I can say.”

  He took her hand. It was a great relief not to feel the impinging madness all the time. But he also had to admit it was hard giving up everything he had seen and learned. The clockwork plague was gone, and now he was just himself. It would have to be enough.

  “So, what did Lady Orchid—Cixi—ask the Dragon Men to do?” Gavin asked.

  “They repaired the Lady of Liberty from stem to stern, and while they were working, they uncovered one of your projects and arranged for its completion.”

  “Project? What project?”

  Alice raised her voice. “You can come in now.”

  The door slid farther open and a mechanical man entered. He was painted black and white, in a sort of butler’s uniform, but with a distinctly Oriental sensibility, and he was carrying a fiddle case. Gavin clambered to his feet with a little shout. “Kemp!”

  He almost hugged the automaton, then stopped, considering the gesture silly. Instead, he shook the mechanical man’s free hand. Even that much seemed to put Kemp off a bit.

  “It is good to see Sir again,” he said. “Very good indeed. Thank you, Sir.”

  “How do you feel, Kemp?” Gavin asked. He looked the automaton up and down, half expecting his mind to analyze how he was put together, but nothing came to him. It was both odd and exhilarating.

  “I am much improved, Sir,” Kemp replied. “The Chinese Dragon Men finished the body you started and were able to reattach my head very nicely. I am quite ready to resume my duties. As a start, I have brought Sir his fiddle from the ship.”

  Gavin accepted it gratefully, checked it, and set it on the bed. “Thank you, Kemp. You always remember.”

  “Would Madam or Sir like something to eat? I have learned Chinese and can communicate with the kitchen staff quite readily.”

  “We would, Kemp.” Alice said, and Kemp bustled off. “Thank you for that, darling. I missed him so.”

  “The Dragon Men—”

  “Only finished what you started. And you started it when you were in that fugue state, didn’t you? It means a lot that you were thinking of me, even when the plague had you.”

  Moments later, Kemp returned with a tray of tea and food. To Gavin’s relief, it had no feeding spiders on it—just chopsticks. Click followed Kemp in and sat at Alice’s feet while they ate. It was the most relaxing and wonderful thing in the world to simply share a meal with her, and what made it even better was knowing that he could do it over and over again for the rest of their lives.

  “What are you smiling about, you devil?” Alice asked over her cup.

  He rested his chin in his palm. “How beautiful you are. And how it must be a relief for you to be rid of that spider on your hand.”

  “Thank you. You’re a dear.” She held up her bare left hand. “It does feel nice. As far as we can tell, the clockwork plague is completely gone. The people who have it are recovering. The zombies will still be scarred—there’s nothing for that—but no new cases, no new deaths.”

  “Humans can be what they were supposed to be,” Gavin said. “No more, no less.”

  “Here’s to no more.” Alice raised her cup, and they clinked in a toast.

  “Where’s Phipps, by the way?” Gavin asked. “We need to talk to her about leaving, since the ship is finished.”

  “Oh. Susan. Yes.” Alice cleared her throat. “Susan is staying on. As the new cultural attaché. I believe she and Lieutenant—that is General—Li have formed an . . . understanding, and Susan wishes to explore it.”

  “You noticed that, too, did you? Huh. I never thought I’d see Susan Phipps with a gentleman caller, and definitely not
one from China.”

  “Yes, well, I never thought I’d fall for a cabin boy from Boston.”

  “Street musician. I was a street musician. Starving artists have a lot more cachet, you know.” He devoured a bean bun. “There’s something I’m forgetting, though. It’s important, but it won’t come.”

  “Well, we do need to talk about where we’ll go.”

  Gavin set down the chopsticks. “You know, I hadn’t thought of that at all. I’d been so focused on China and the cure that I didn’t think of afterward.”

  “We could stay in China,” Alice said. “Cixi would keep us as honored guests forever.”

  “That’s a kind offer, but I want to be closer to home when we raise our children.”

  At the word children, Alice wordlessly took both her hands in his across the table. “I agree.”

  “Should we head for Boston, then? You haven’t met my family.”

  “Your pardon, Sir.” Kemp poked his head into the room. A brass nightingale fluttered around his head. “You have a visitor.”

  “Hello, hello!” called a new voice. “You there, Gavin?”

  The doors to the courtyard slid completely open and Uri Ennock strode into the room, his white-blond hair shining in the morning sunlight. Alice stared, mouth agape.

  “That’s what I forgot,” Gavin said sheepishly. “Alice, I’d like you to meet my dad.”

  Epilogue

  The rickety stairs creaked under Gavin’s shoes as he and Alice climbed the steps of the old tenement building. The place was dirtier and dingier than he remembered, and smaller, too. But the stairwell and hallway still smelled the same—boiled cabbage, urine, unwashed bodies. Doors cracked open, and eyes stared at him and Alice. Their clothes stood out as richer and finer than anything the people here might own, though Gavin had taken care to wear simple twill and flannel while Alice wore a plain blouse and skirt. He swallowed and kept climbing.

  “Don’t be nervous, darling,” Alice murmured. “I’m not.”