“Machine? What’s going on, you look like you’re frightened of it.” Terry dug his heels in and wouldn’t budge on the marble floor.
“Terry, you have to get going. Walter will recognize you and have you arrested.”
He followed me to the entrance. “Answer me, Gennie.”
I pushed at him, noting that Walter was following our tracks like a bloodhound. “I’ll talk to you later. I’m not scared of it, now go!”
I met Walter at the entrance to the foyer.
“You wouldn’t have been talking to an associate, now would you?”
I smiled brightly. “No. Just checking to see the weather.”
I wanted to kick myself.
Walter smirked. “You can’t do better than that?”
“I’m not flirting with statues, am I?”
He growled and pushed past me. It took an act of willpower I’d never before used not to turn around and watch him as he scanned the people outside for anyone suspicious. I hoped Terry had made it to the street.
A few moments later, Walter stopped at the visitor desk and shook a fist at me. “I’ll get you yet, girl. I can be a very patient man.”
As he wandered off, my gaze drifted to the entrance and in the shadows of the passage there, I spied a glowing set of yellow eyes. Thomason had been watching my interchange with Terry and Walter.
For the first time, I wondered what Thomason’s inventor, Ephraim Gregory, intended when he built the automaton. Gregory was well known for his work with the Ministry of Defense, and Lord Rozakis, the Queen’s Spymaster. I had to wonder about the ulterior motives of such an inventor, and the reasons behind providing the British Museum with a prototype of something so unusual. Had the automaton been a failed experiment? What things had Thomason really been built for? More important, what was he capable of?
****
“I understand you and Walter are not on good terms again.”
Dinner was held in Colonel Worthington’s room. Walter had declined the invitation. Men and wounded pride.
I rolled my eyes. “He’s looking for reasons to cause problems for me. I had a friend that visited, and Walter tried to get him in trouble.”
Why had I just told him that?
Colonel Worthington pinned me with his gaze. “A friend?”
“As hard as it may be to believe, I did once have a life outside these walls, with friends.”
Colonel Worthington smiled as I paraphrased his earlier words.
“Point taken. But keep in mind, Gennie, that Walter takes his job very seriously. He can’t help himself. Try to be a little tolerant of him.”
“What do you mean?”
Colonel Worthington shook his head. “It isn’t mine to explain. Sometime, perhaps, you two will get to where you can ask him that question.”
We finished dinner in silence, only interrupted by Thomason, who came in to refill his water and coal reserves before leaving again. I yawned. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and it was taking its toll.
“I’ll clean up dinner this evening, tomorrow is your turn. Get some sleep.”
I smiled at Colonel Worthington and let myself out. The key to my room rested in my pocket, and I stared at it for a moment when I pulled it out. My own key. Tears burned the corners of my eyes and I blinked.
Thomason slid from the darkness and I stifled a squeak. He held out one hand, and a gold pocket watch dangled between two brass-plated fingers. He waved it around and I put out my hand. It dropped into my palm, warm from his touch. Without another glance, Thomason pushed past me and retreated into the museum.
I turned the timepiece over in my hands. The outer case was etched with swallows in flight. I pressed the button and the front swung open. Inside, the glass was cracked, and there was no movement of the hands.
On the inner cover, someone had etched something.
To my Darling Elizabeth. J.
My fingers traced the edges of the watch. Without thinking, I opened my mind and was suddenly swamped with images of fire and water. Someone was shouting, and I tasted saltwater and lamp oil.
Someone called out for Elizabeth, but before I could make out a face, the world fractured at the edges and went dark.
Chapter Seven
I woke up ensconced in a pile of blankets. Warmth surrounded me and I stretched, hissing when cold air kissed my arms. I ran a hand through my hair and jerked when pain radiated through my scalp. A small bump had formed on the back of my head. I didn’t remember falling. There’d been that strange dream about water and Thomason giving me something. Gold. Small. A pocket watch!
I looked around the room, expecting to find him lurking, but then chalked it up to my own foolishness. When I got out of bed, just to be certain, I turned out my pockets, opened the door, and searched, but I couldn’t find the watch anywhere. Pulling off my dress, I grimaced. I had been so sleepy I hadn’t even taken it off. Then I realized I hadn’t gotten around to asking Terry for a change of clothes. That would have to be taken care of soon.
I draped a blanket over my shoulders and padded to the water closet down the hall, washing my face and hands in the warm water that pumped from the sink. One of the bonuses to steam power was a constant supply of hot water.
Feeling refreshed, I decided that I’d dreamed the whole incident. Thomason made me nervous. My fingers prodded the bump on my head. That couldn’t be explained. I shied away from the question. Perhaps I’d just hit my head on the metal headboard.
Colonel Worthington and I ate breakfast then headed upstairs. I was to work at the visitor’s desk again. I think he found it easier to keep track of me there. Adele could tell him if I went anywhere, and we both knew that I could find my way around the museum with ease. I’d done it in the dark more often than he realized.
Halfway through the day, Colonel Worthington reappeared. He held a folded note in one hand and his expression said he didn’t like whatever was going on.
“You have a letter.”
I stared. “What?”
He thrust the fine, ivory, linen envelope at me. I took it, staring at the flowing script that spelled out my name. “But I don’t know anyone who would write me a note.”
Colonel Worthington shrugged. “They apparently know you.”
When I didn’t immediately open it, his expression softened. “Can you read, Gennie?”
My face burned. “Yes. I just…I’ve never gotten a letter before.”
Adele smiled and patted my shoulder. “Go find a bench and read it, dear.”
I wandered away without answering. I located a bench and sat, sliding one hand under the green, wax seal.
Ms. Bond,
I hope this letter finds you well. Your friend, Terry, has provided the note and will be waiting outside to escort you to an appropriate area where we may speak. Your methods have proved surprising, and my employer wishes us to speak further about the job.
Do not make me wait.
S.
I crumpled the letter in my hand and stalked back to Colonel Worthington and Adele.
“I take it the letter was not good news,” Colonel Worthington commented.
I shook my head. “I have to leave for a bit. I’ll be back later tonight.”
Colonel Worthington stared at me for a long moment. I felt as though he were looking for an answer in my face. I didn’t understand the question, so I waited. He must have found what he was looking for, because he finally nodded and stepped to the side.
“I’ll see you for dinner then.”
I agreed and strode toward the front. Anger burned a hole in my gut. Spiros and his high-handed methods grated.
Sure enough, Terry sat on the steps outside, flipping his hat in his hands. His back was to me, but before I could get close, he sprang up. “Gennie! I’m sorry about this. Not my idea, believe me.”
I stopped short. Purple and black flesh circled Terry’s right eye. My stomach dropped. “What happened?”
He shrugged and attempted a grin.
“You should see the other guy.”
“Terry—”
“Leave it, Genevieve. You have bigger things to worry about.”
We stood there like that for a moment, until he reached out and snagged my hand. He squeezed it once and smiled. “Really, Gennie. It’s nothing big.”
I didn’t believe him and he knew it. But he was right. Spiros was a bigger problem.
“You’re going to explain that later.”
He snorted. “Much later, maybe. If you’re nice to me.”
I sighed and allowed him to lead me away from the museum. I should have released his hand, but he didn’t seem inclined to let go, and it made me feel better. I refused to think about what that might mean.
We didn’t go far, just past Berkley Square and then behind a building, before we turned the second corner. Terry released my hand, but wouldn’t allow me to move first. He led the way.
Spiros waited, casually leaning up against the brickwork admiring a rosebush. We were in someone’s garden, hidden from prying eyes by plants and brickwork.
“It seems you’ve become more comfortable in the museum than anyone expected.”
He still hadn’t looked at me. My eyes cut to Terry, who stood off to the side, his arms loose, but one fist clenching over and over. I looked between the two of them and realized that Terry and Spiros were almost the same height. When Spiros turned to look at me, a small cut showed on one cheek.
That solved the problem of who Terry had gotten into a fight with. I’d figure out why later.
“I’ve always enjoyed the museum. And as for being comfortable…” I shrugged. “The curator plays things close to the chest. I have to at least appear like I want to stay there or he’s never going to tell me anything useful.”
Spiros snapped a rose off the bush near him. Petal by petal he ripped it apart, occasionally popping one into his mouth. “Be sure that you keep your goal in mind. There are other ways of accomplishing this task, though they aren’t the preferred method.”
Irritation sparked. “I know I don’t have forever to do this, but no one said it was immediate.”
Spiros straightened and threw the destroyed rose on the ground. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Ms. Bond, so I suggest you just do the job as quickly as you can and get back to your underground hovel. Your time limit will extend only a month further. If you cannot do this by then, we will devise other methods.”
Eyes narrowed, I nodded. “Fine.”
With a pointed look in Terry’s direction, Spiros exited the garden.
“That was it?” I demanded.
Terry’s face was shuttered. He didn’t want to tell me something.
“What’s going on, Terry?”
He pulled at his too-short coat sleeves. “It’s better that you stay in the museum for now, okay? Things at home are getting…strange.”
A chill traveled over my skin, raising goose bumps. “What do you mean?”
He shook his head. I set my feet and glared. “Tell me. I’m not two years old.”
“Clarissa has been taken. One of the others thinks he saw her being loaded into a police auto and shipped to one of the mills. Elliot’s run off to try and find her.”
My heart skipped a beat. Elliot wasn’t even able to keep himself out of trouble.
“That black eye wasn’t from Spiros. You were trying to help Elliot.”
He had the grace to look guilty. “They’re the same. Justin and Spiros won’t let me out of their sight because they think I have some kind of influence over you. I told them even if I did, I wouldn’t be used against you. They got upset.”
I looked away.
“Aw, now don’t cry. That’s why I didn’t tell you to begin with.”
I swiped my hand across my face. “I’m not crying. I got something in my eye.”
Terry snorted. “You’re an even worse liar than you are a thief.”
I stuck out my tongue.
He stepped away and reached under a bush near the gate we’d entered.
“I thought you might need your things.”
I took the bundle. Terry wasn’t always good with words, but he always knew what I needed. “Thank you. I was beginning to get a little desperate.”
He smiled. “I thought you might be.”
We started out the gate and he hesitated. “I can’t go back to the museum with you. Spiros will be waiting for me. I’m not allowed out on my own anymore. No one is with all the police. But if you need something, you know how to find me.”
I stood clutching the bag he’d brought and stared. His face colored, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead before striding the same way Spiros had.
I don’t know how long I stood there, but I wandered the streets around the area for a while, thinking things over. Something about this whole plan had stunk from the beginning, but it was worse now. Justin seemed to have forgotten everything he’d ever taught us, and Spiros had taken over.
And Terry…My mind shied away from that subject. All I knew was that I cared about him a great deal, and he was being mistreated on my account. Based on the weight of the bundle in my arms, he had brought me everything I owned. His message couldn’t be clearer. Things at home were no longer safe. It was no longer home.
When I finally realized the sun was setting on the horizon, I turned my feet to the museum. I climbed the steps and entered just as Walter was closing up for the night.
“Thought we’d gotten rid of you.” He grunted.
He squinted at my face, and something in his demeanor changed. His tone remained gruff, but it seemed to have lost some of its bite. “Get on with you, then. Colonel Worthington’s kept your dinner warm.”
I dropped my bundle of things on the table and then knocked on Colonel Worthington’s door. When I heard him call out a greeting, I opened it. Sure enough, a covered plate rested on the back of the stove.
“I wasn’t sure you hadn’t run off for good.”
I shook my head. “Just had to get some things from a friend.” Getting the words past the tightness in my throat was difficult.
Colonel Worthington watched me as I unwrapped the plate and got a fork. “A friend, eh?”
I didn’t answer. He let me eat my meal in silence. Then pulled out a newspaper as I moved to the other side of the room and washed the dishes in the small sink.
I dried the last plate, set them back in the sideboard, hung up the towel, and headed for the door.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.
I turned from the doorway. “Thank you, sir.”
He cleared his throat and snapped out his newspaper. “Next time, I won’t keep your dinner warm.”
Without my permission, a smile crept across my face. It stayed there as I entered my room, exhausted, and pulled off my dress, dropping the bag of clothes Terry had brought me on the table. I started to remove my underclothing in preparation for a bath, when I stopped.
Glittering in the center of the bed was a small, gold pocket watch.
Chapter Eight
Sleep took a long time to come. I stood there, staring at the pocket watch until my skin bristled with goose bumps and my teeth clattered with cold. In the end, I left it where it and went to the bathroom, filing the huge claw foot tub with steaming water and scented soap. The bubbles surrounded me in the comforting scent of lavender, but my mind still whirled.
That clock hadn’t been there when I left. It hadn’t been there when I went to dinner. Only two people could have put it there, and I doubted Walter was the culprit.
Thomason. My dream had shown him handing it to me. Not a dream at all, I suppose. But why?
I couldn’t answer the question. The automaton confused me. It shouldn’t have had a mind of its own, not like I did. And yet, when I looked into those yellow eyes, I felt something looking back at me. Thomason was more than a sophisticated machine. He had a mind. He thought.
Shivers traveled over my skin, even in the steaming water. It was frightening that a
ny man could create another. That was God’s realm. Most humans couldn’t handle their own children, let alone creating life in other ways. I was a perfect example. Before Terry found me huddled in an alleyway near Trafalgar Square, I only remembered being cold. Whatever had happened had been so awful I had no memory of it, but my parents had made the decision to leave me.
I played with the bubbles, thinking of everything and nothing. I had to find the box, but I had to admit to myself, though I would deny it later, I didn’t want to. Not because it didn’t interest me—it did, and that also frightened me–but because I would be betraying Colonel Worthington. Though we hadn’t spent long together, I’d been coming to the museum for years. I knew how much pride he took in this place based on the way he kept it. Everything was pristine and well kept. He knew so much about the things here.
Terry’s purpled and swollen face flashed across my mind and I sniffed. I couldn’t have regrets. My safety wasn’t the only one at stake anymore. Something else was going on, and Terry was in the middle of it. And that was my fault. Guilt gnawed at my gut. I would save the regrets for later. My mind refused to look too closely at the feelings attached to my thoughts of Terry. I could only handle so much, and there was already a lot on my plate.
The bathwater was lukewarm when I finally pulled the plug and dried off. It felt good to have soaked for so long. And with such hot water. A luxury we didn’t get often at the common room. Usually you saved a few coin and bought a bath at one of the hotels or inns when you could.
I would miss that tub.
Avoiding the watch by stuffing it into a petticoat pocket, I pulled on a clean shift and woolen stockings and crawled beneath the mound of blankets on the bed. The gas lamp danced across the stone walls, and I thought about the day again. Spiros was getting anxious. He and his boss had given me a month, but I wasn’t sure how I would go about getting the box by then.
I’d have to get closer to Colonel Worthington.
****
“Colonel Worthington, I know this might be a little sudden, but I was wondering if you’d tell me what you want me to, ah, listen to.” I dried the last dish and looked over my shoulder and the curator, who was putting his coat on.
Into the Ether Page 4