The 7th of Victorica

by Beau Schemery

  Sev nodded, his brows furrowed. “What about Rat?”

  “What about him?” Wrathsbury responded.

  “I think he’ll be an asset. I don’t think we could o’beat Fairgate without ’im.”

  Silas clenched his fist in front of his lips, obviously deep in thought.

  Wrathsbury studied Sev and Silas intently. The moment hovered silent and intense in the study. Sev wondered why they were even debating Rat’s involvement, especially now that Sev had finally gotten him to come around. Sev stared at Silas, willing him to agree, to tell Wrathsbury that Rat was an indispensable member of the team.

  “What is your opinion, Silas?” Wrathsbury asked. “Ideally, you are in charge of this mission.”

  Silas frowned with his entire face. Sev felt shocked his friend would even need to think about his answer. Rat had risked his life at every turn. He’d helped them with no expectation of reward. Every second that ticked by on Wrathsbury’s ridiculously expensive clock felt like an eternity to Sev, all the while feeling his anger grow exponentially. He was on the verge of leaping from his chair and throttling Silas.

  Before he could act, Silas licked his lips and sighed slightly. “Well.” Sev and Wrathsbury waited for him to continue. Silas frowned, grimaced, and fidgeted. “I—um. Rat helped us out quite a bit.”

  Sev smiled and nodded. That was certainly true.

  “But he’s not exactly qualified,” Silas added. “And he’s a bit young.”

  Sev gritted his teeth angrily and rose slightly from his chair.

  Silas’s eyes widened with what Sev could only guess was fear. “But, but. I believe he—um. I believe he would be an asset?” Silas drew out the last word into a question, and Sev grimaced.

  “Fair enough,” Wrathsbury said, apparently oblivious to the exchange between Sev and Silas. “Sev, could you inform the young man?”

  He nodded but said nothing.

  “Good. That’s settled, then. We’ll begin arrangements.” Wrathsbury drained his scotch as Sev and Silas exchanged strained glances. The duke poured himself another drink without acknowledging their discomfort. “I’ll have Annabelle assist you with the details.” Wrathsbury dropped into his chair and inspected more of the papers on his desk.

  Sev looked at Silas, wondering if they had been dismissed. “Can I get another scotch?” Sev asked, brandishing his empty glass. Wrathsbury happily filled the empty vessel.

  Silas shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ve things to attend to in Undertown,” he said, rising. “I’ll have to take my leave.” He looked expectantly toward Sev. “Will you join me, Sev?”

  “No.” Sev shook his head. “I think I’ll finish this exquisite scotch first.”

  Silas frowned. “Fine.” He marched to the door of the study. “I will await our travel schedule.” Silas shot a pointed glance at Sev before he left the room.

  Sev sipped his scotch silently.

  Wrathsbury took a sip. “Hm. That was more than a tad awkward.”

  Sev snorted. He drank a bit of scotch.

  “To be honest, I was all for Rat. I’m just as surprised as you are that Silas was so reluctant to accept him.” Wrathsbury took a pull from his glass. “I even had an extra set of papers secured in advance.”

  “I think yer opinion means a great deal t’Silas.” Sev tasted his scotch. “He was bein’ a tad more cautious acceptin’ Rat fer yer benefit.”

  “Are you attempting to convince me or you?” Wrathsbury asked.

  “I’m not attemptin’ t’convince anyone. I’m just statin’ a fact.”

  “Very well.” Wrathsbury toasted Sev, who returned the toast before their conversation veered into reminiscence about the battle at Buckingham Palace. By the time they’d finished, the scotch was gone. Sev rose shakily and bid Wrathsbury farewell. Sev accepted an envelope from Annabelle and exited to the street. He looked left and right, then decided to visit his old home.

  Sev walked the streets to the British Museum. He knew Henry was no longer there. The lonely window that led to his old attic home held almost no significance. Sev could have easily scaled the wall and visited his former hideout, but he didn’t want to. He was happy to distance himself from that part of his life. With a new resolve, Sev made his way to Blackside, and Rat.

  5

  “YE’VE GOT t’be bloody jokin’!” Rat exclaimed.

  Sev shook his head, glad Rat was showing such enthusiasm. “Not jokin’, kid.”

  “Victorica,” Rat stated with awe, flopping into the nearest chair. “Bugger. The Wild West. The great frontier. The colonies. New York City.” Rat listed each off with more reverence than the last, and Sev nodded with a smile after each. “Truly?” Rat asked almost breathlessly.

  “It won’t be a vacation, Ratty.” Sev paced as he spoke. “It’s bad over there. Almost as bad as it was here. Worse fer the slaves, the black folks. It’s goin’ t’be up to us t’save ’em, t’free ’em.”

  Rat’s expression grew solemn. “I know that.” He stuck out his chin, puffing on his pipe. “But I ain’t backin’ down from it.” He fixed Sev with a grave stare. “I’m in.”

  “No matter what?” Sev asked.

  “You know it, friend.”

  “Good.” Sev nodded. “I knew I could count on ye, Ratty.”

  Silence hovered between them. Rat’s brow furrowed in what Sev assumed was contemplation. Rat rubbed at his chin and puffed on the pipe Sev had given him. “Can we take the bikes?” he finally asked.

  “The ‘bikes’?” Sev tested the sound of the word.

  “Two wheels.” Rat held up two fingers. “Like a bicycle.”

  “Ah,” Sev said with a nod. “I’m amazed at what ye’ve done with the windin’ mechanism. Usin’ the ‘bike’s’ own momentum t’wind the second spring and makin’ it switch over automatically? That’s brilliant, Ratty.”

  Rat waved off the compliment. “It was obvious once I started workin’ on it. Plus it’ll leave our hands free while we’re steerin’.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less brilliant,” Sev said reverently.

  “Knock it off. Ye’re makin’ me blush.” Rat shook his head. “So, can we take the bikes or what?”

  “I’m sure we can.” Sev rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. “Ye might want t’start lookin’ fer the supplies to build another bike.”

  Rat gave Sev a quizzical look but said nothing.

  “I’m takin’ mine t’see Silas, and I guarantee he’s goin’ t’want one.”

  Rat laughed, relieved. “I reckon ye’re spot on there. I’ll see what I can do. Ye goin’ t’try yers out, then?”

  “Oh, aye.” Sev’s face broke with an immense smile. “I can’t wait t’see what this beauty’s got.” Sev’s mouth fairly watered as he approached the machine. Rat explained a few last-minute instructions, and Sev nodded as he observed. He cranked the handle until it could no longer be turned. Rat ran over and turned the wheel that opened the garage bay door. Sev waited with the bike, the gearcycle ready to move. Rat gave him a thumbs-up, and Sev returned it before he flipped the switch that engaged the engine and the bike shot forward out of the building and into the streets of Blackside.

  SEV LAUGHED out loud as the gearcycle ate up the distance on the cobblestone streets. His eyes watered from the press of air, and he wished he’d thrown on some goggles. Sev guided the gearcycle along the streets toward the new entrance to Undertown. He felt the shudder of the mechanism as the gearcycle switched from the exhausted spring to the newly wound spring, but the bike never slowed. Rat’s engineering was genius and flawless. It took Sev some time to acclimate to shifting gears. A few times he had to dismount and rewind the engine. Still, the entire experience had Seven grinning from ear to ear. It was like riding a mechanical horse, the wind whipping by. Sev loved it, loved the freedom of it. He couldn’t wait to show Silas.

  Sev eased the gearcycle down the ramp to Undertown. He wove through the streets to Silas’s tower and parked the vehicle, engaging the brake. Sev
dashed into the elevator and rode it until he found Silas leaning over a table studying maps of the colonies and beyond. Sev opened the lift and approached his leaning lover, peering over Silas’s shoulder. Few of the maps looked at all familiar.

  “Sev.” The greeting was formal, emotionless. Silas did not look up from his task.

  “Silas,” Sev returned, still observing. “I feel like ye’re upset with me.”

  Silas grunted, turning to face Seven. “I wanted to tell you, honestly. I just—the way Wrathsbury explained everything. I was worried. I thought he might be watching me. It all seemed so serious and secretive. I didn’t want to bugger the whole thing.”

  “Silas,” Sev said, “ye were confused. I understand that. Ye don’t have to explain yerself t’me.”

  “I know. Jesus, Sev. I just want you to know I love you. And that there’s no one I’d rather have at my side.”

  “I know that.” Sev nodded once, eyes closed. “We’re goin’ t’go over there and turn their society on its head. We’re going t’show them.”

  When he opened his eyes, Silas frowned so deeply, Sev worried his love’s face would split. He’d been frowning so much lately.

  “What?” Sev asked.

  “You seem a bit too excited about this mission. It seems like you think this is going to be some grand adventure.” Silas turned away again.

  “No.” Sev shook his head, regarded Silas for a moment, and then shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

  “Sev—” Silas adopted a too-familiar admonishing tone.

  “Silas.” Sev hoped his own tone was soothing, calm. “I know this is goin’ t’be dangerous. I know it ain’t goin’ t’be easy. Believe me, Silas. I do.” Sev placed his hands on Silas’s shoulders and looked into his big hazel eyes. “But the things we’ve been through, the things we’ve seen.” He paused and breathed deeply. “The people we’ve lost. We’ve seen the worst, suffered the worst. Whatever this mission has to throw at us? We can handle it. Together. You. Me. I ain’t worried.”

  Silas shook his head, but a smile crept slowly across his lips. He darted forward and kissed Sev quickly on the forehead. “You’re amazing. Bloody insane but amazing.” He retreated a step, and Sev let him go. Silas dragged his fingers through his dark hair. “Everything that you’ve done. Everything that’s been done to you and yet you can hold on to hope. Hold on to optimism. It’s amazing. You mad, wonderful bastard. You almost make me believe it as well.” He turned his attention back to his maps and papers.

  “Forget that stuff for now,” Sev said, walking to a nearby wall hook. He retrieved two sets of goggles and held one out to Silas. “I’ve got somethin’ outside I want t’show ye.”

  “What is it?” Silas asked, taking the goggles.

  “Ye’ll see.” Sev grinned mischievously.

  The pair spent the rest of the day testing the limits of the gearcycle and Rat’s design. Sev rode until he could shift gears flawlessly, and then he turned the machine over to Silas. Riding seemed to come naturally to him, and it was no time at all before he was zipping along the streets at the bike’s maximum speed.

  Just as Sev thought, Silas stated, with a huge grin, “I must have one!” They had parked it in front of a pub and were sharing a drink inside, with their goggles perched atop their heads.

  “I reckoned ye might. I already got Rat lookin’ fer parts.” Sev held up his pint and toasted Silas, who returned the toast, and they finished their drinks.

  “This has been a lark,” Silas said. “But I need to get back to work. There are a great many details I still need to sort out before we can begin.”

  “Well, ye’re goin’ t’have t’sort out how we’ll get the gearcycles on the ship,” Sev said as they exited the pub.

  “I absolutely must,” Silas agreed. He waited for Sev to climb on the gearcycle before sitting behind him. Sev wound the engine and the machine tore off through the streets of Blackside.

  THE NEXT few weeks passed in a flurry of work, meetings, and planning. Sev and Rat finished Silas’s gearcycle. Sadly, there wasn’t much time for him to enjoy it; Silas had almost no spare time. Sev stole a few moments with him when they could both manage it, which wasn’t often. He couldn’t wait until the voyage, assuming that he and Silas could finally spend some time alone, the planning done and only the trip and the sea to keep them busy.

  Rat badgered Sev to show him how to create one of the clockwork over-skeletons that both he and Silas wore, enhancing their speed and strength. Rat was like a machine himself, puffing on his pipe like the steam-stack on a locomotive as he worked diligently day and night. Sev wasn’t surprised when Rat turned his innovative eye on the design and was able to make a few improvements. Sev incorporated Rat’s changes to his own and Silas’s skeletons.

  “Ye’re turnin’ into a regular Tesla,” Sev said with some pride as he watched Rat work. “I didn’t know ye had it in ye.”

  “Nor did I,” Rat answered, lifting the goggles protecting his eyes. “I got you t’thank fer that, mate.”

  “Me?” Sev shook his head. “I taught ye a bit, but the rest is all you, Ratty.”

  “Nah. Ye showed me I could do it. Ye made me realize I could be more than a hired hooligan. I never would’ve tried, if it hadn’t been fer yer takin’ an interest in me.”

  “I’m all about lost causes, me.” Sev smiled as he spoke. “But seriously, Rat, ye’re a friend, and friends look out fer each other.”

  Rat chuckled. “Yeah, that’s fer certain. Now, let’s get back t’work before ye get all weepy on me.”

  “I won’t get weepy if ye promise not t’hug me.”

  Rat didn’t hug Sev. He punched him playfully on the arm, and they got back to work. They weren’t at it long before they were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Do ye want t’get that, or should I?” Sev asked. Without a word, Rat trotted over and opened the door. Sev could hear him talking to someone; then he slowly closed the door. Sev looked over, and the look on Rat’s face worried him. “What? Who was it?”

  “Midnight wants t’see us.”

  “Ah.” Sev wasn’t surprised. He’d been expecting it. They’d been running small, odd jobs since Sev had seen Midnight on Wrathsbury’s steps, but he hadn’t had a face-to-face.

  “It’s about the trip, ain’t it?” Rat asked.

  “Most likely.” Sev nodded, wiping his hands on a rag.

  “Ye think he’s angry?”

  “Only one way t’find out.” Sev shrugged. He noticed the concern in Rat’s features and offered him a smile. “Don’t worry, mate. I’ll take care o’Jack. Fer whatever reason, the man seems t’listen t’me.”

  Rat nodded. “Reckon I’ll go get cleaned up.”

  “Right. I’m just goin’ t’finish up here, and then I’ll do the same.”

  Rat left Sev without another word. Alone, Sev furrowed his brow as he adjusted the tension on his over-skeleton. No matter what he’d said to Rat or how brave a face he’d worn, he was truly concerned how Midnight would react to their trip to the colonies. The criminal might be very angry indeed, and Sev was not as sure as he’d pretended that Midnight would be so easily handled. He took a deep, steadying breath. “Nothin’ for it now,” Sev told himself. There was certainly no turning back at this point, and he wouldn’t even if he could. He’d just have to make Midnight understand that. Somehow.

  6

  CLEAN, REFRESHED, and wearing their newly improved over-skeletons, Sev and Rat apprehensively climbed the familiar steps to Midnight’s Black Chapel. It never ceased to impress Sev that Midnight was able to acquire the former Christchurch in Blackside’s Whitechapel and paint the whole bloody building black as pitch, black as some described Midnight’s own soul.

  “I ain’t never been so nervous t’see His Nibs since the first time he sent fer me,” Rat said. He puffed distractedly on his pipe.

  “Just keep calm. Answer his questions honestly, but don’t offer anythin’ extra. We don’t want t’give away anythin’ Wrathsbury hasn’t told hi
m,” Sev advised.

  “I ain’t used t’lyin’ t’Jack.”

  “We ain’t lyin’,” Sev said. “If he asks us straight, we’ll answer straight.” He pulled out the key to the chapel door and looked at it for a moment. “I still don’t feel right just walkin’ into the Black Chapel like this.”

  Rat grabbed the key. “He’s expectin’ us. It ain’t like we’re bargin’ in unannounced.” He put the large iron key into the lock and turned. A series of grinding, clanking gears turned inside the doors before they creaked open, seemingly of their own volition. Rat retrieved the key and handed it back to Sev. “After you, mate.”

  Sev took the key and shot Rat a dark look. “Thanks,” Sev growled, not feeling thankful. They walked into the anteroom Sev had waited in the first time Midnight had summoned him. His gaze traveled over the little, clockwork animals and creatures along the shelves on the walls. Sev still wanted a closer look at that bat. He noticed a large jeweled frog and delicate butterfly with taffeta wings had joined it. Midnight, the constant contradiction, Sev thought as he regarded the intricate toys and considered the man who owned them.

  The door into the chapel proper was ajar, and Sev pushed it, entering the lushly redecorated church. He searched the dining area, the various sitting areas, and the dais at the front of the chapel. Midnight was nowhere to be found. Sev smelled something familiar and delightful. The spicy, salty scent of Xiang’s eastern cuisine filled the church.

  “Somethin’ smells tasty,” Rat commented.

  No sooner had he finished speaking than Xiang, Midnight’s Chinese manservant, shuffled into the room. When the old man noticed the two boys standing in the aisle his olive-skinned face broke into a smile. “Mr. Seven! Mr. Rat!” he called. “It is so good to see you both.” He ran up and embraced them. “It has been too long.”

  “Oy, Xiangy,” Rat said. “How ’ave ye been?”

  “Very well, Mr. Rat. Thank you.” Xiang bowed slightly.