The Impossible Cube

by Steven Harper

  “Don’t!” Alice cried. She ran toward him. Gavin grabbed Feng’s arm and ran as well, though they were a good hundred feet away. Dr. Clef smiled beatifically and struck a large tuning fork on the table. A pure A rang through the room, and Gavin remembered that he had sung that same note in the same octave on the night he had caressed Alice with his voice and made the Cube vanish in the Doomsday Vault. It was the same note Dr. Clef had struck the day he had completed the Impossible Cube in his laboratory at the Third Ward and accidentally made the Cube disappear through time. Gavin had struck the fork again to bring the Cube back. A. The first note. The pure tone that rang through time and space and called the Cube to itself.

  Dr. Clef pressed the handle of the fork to the arc, and the arc’s light became a white so beautiful, it made Gavin’s heart ache. They weren’t even halfway to him when Dr. Clef reached into the opening. It snapped and growled as it swallowed his hand. Gavin stared in fascination even as horror crawled over his skin. His steps faltered. The machines were hypnotic, thrilling. He was watching the most brilliant clockworker the world had ever seen bend time itself to his will with a unique machine. He was also watching the most powerful act of destruction in the history of the universe.

  “He cannot.” Feng tugged at his arm now, trying to hurry him forward. “He will not.”

  Dr. Clef whipped his hand out of the arc. The metal glowed bright as the sun. Alice, who was several paces ahead of Gavin, stopped in her tracks and threw up her arm to protect her eyes. Her little automatons squeaked in fear, and Click hissed. The glow faded a little, and when Gavin’s vision cleared, he saw Dr. Clef was holding the Impossible Cube.

  “Shit,” Gavin whispered.

  “My Cube,” Dr. Clef crooned. “Mein liebes, schönes Kübchen.”

  The Cube was just as Gavin remembered it. It was only the size of a hatbox, but its intricate metal lattice twisted the eye. The back seemed to shift to the front, or perhaps the front was fading into the back. One of the bottom struts crossed impossibly over the top. It shouldn’t have existed, but it did. Behind it, the arc continued to glow with holy fire.

  Gavin shook off the fascination and started forward again with Feng. Alice did the same. He was in a dream, running through tar and molasses. Dr. Clef popped a pair of protectors over his ears and flipped another switch. The paradox generator atop the arc cranked to life, and the double tritone rippled through the chamber like demons and angels at war, amplified by the arc’s power so that the noise was clear even over the turbine whine. Gavin dropped to his knees at the terrible perfection of it.

  Alice and Feng kept running. They had nearly reached Dr. Clef’s table, with Click and Alice’s automatons following in an angry brass cloud. Gavin admired her determination and tenacity, her beauty and power. Dr. Clef picked up another fork, and the small part of Gavin’s brain that wasn’t enthralled by the perfect, rapturous sound of his own generator noted the length of the prongs. D-sharp. Alice gathered herself to leap at him.

  “Nicht,” said Dr. Clef, though the word was barely audible over the turbines and tritones. He struck the fork and pressed it to the side of the Cube. Instantly a cone of sound blasted from the Cube and through the fork. It hit Alice and shoved her backward into Feng. The two of them toppled to the ground. The little automatons were scattered in all directions, rotors and legs bent and laboring. Click bowled over backward. A piece of Gavin’s awareness flashed hot anger at Alice’s injury, but the rest of him remained consumed by the tritone paradox. Then an edge of the cone caught him. It simultaneously dampened the tritone paradox and slapped him in the face. His ears rang. Abruptly, the sound was no longer so hypnotic. Gavin leaped to his feet and automatically ran toward Alice.

  “I’m fine!” she gasped. “Stop him!”

  “Help her, Feng,” Gavin said. “Help us! Do whatever it takes to help!” And without waiting for an answer, he ran toward Dr. Clef’s table. Another cable ran from the paradox generator. It ended in a clip that Dr. Clef was ready to connect to the Impossible Cube. But now Gavin was close enough. He raised his wristband, aimed fast, and fired. The cog spun through the air and knocked Dr. Clef’s hand aside. He yelped but didn’t drop the clip. The ringing in Gavin’s ears continued to muffle the tritones, though he heard enough for it to be a distraction.

  Dr. Clef blinked at Gavin, who was already aiming another cog. There was only one left, and there was only one choice of what to do with it. Grimly, he cranked the magnetic power as high as it would go. Flung at full strength, a spinning cog would slice through flesh and bone like butter. Dr. Clef glanced at the wristband, his brilliant mind making instant connections, and Gavin saw the understanding in the eyes of his mentor, a man who, despite a few arguments, had never been anything but kind and helpful to Gavin, who wanted only to help him now. Gavin’s legs trembled, but his aim remained firm.

  “You won’t,” Dr. Clef said, though Gavin was more reading his lips than hearing his voice.

  “I have to,” Gavin said, and started to move his finger.

  “I can show you your father,” Dr. Clef said.

  Gavin froze.

  “Yes. The Cube and the arc can see through time. I can show you your father as he was. You can see where he went—and where he is now.”

  “He really is alive?” The idea rocked Gavin harder than the tritone paradox. The vague memory of his father’s voice sang softly in his head.

  I had a ship, my ship must flee

  Sailing o’er the clouds and on the silver sea.

  He longed to hear that voice again, learn where his own voice had come from.

  Learn why his father had left.

  “Did he go away because of me?” Gavin whispered. “Was it because I wasn’t as good at music as he was? Was I a bad son?”

  “Gavin!” Alice cried. “Stop him!”

  “We can look,” Dr. Clef mouthed. “We can seek. We can find. It is easy, Gavin. You will discover, uncover, ascertain.”

  Ice slid down Gavin’s spine. “No. You’re lying! It’s a lie!”

  Gavin fired, and the entire world slowed for him. The cog spun lazily through the air, teeth catching light and splitting it into a trillion particles that scattered like drops of syrup. Dr. Clef, with inhuman reflexes, snapped the clip connecting the paradox generator to the Impossible Cube. A blue rose of a spark bloomed and just as quickly flickered into death. The cog continued its long, slow spin. The paradox generator fell silent as all its energy drained into the Cube. Dr. Clef’s facial muscles stretched toward a smile. The cog whirled, heating the air an infinitesimal amount as it passed, and smashed into the paradox generator.

  Utter silence fell over the entire chamber. Then a terrible, discordant sound boomed through the room. Time snapped back to its normal pace. The light within the arc flickered and spun like the eye of a hurricane. A terrible red light poured into the turbine room. Within the eye of the arc, Gavin saw gently flowing water, blue and calm, as if he were looking up from the bottom of a pool or river. His mind leaped from connection to connection, and he realized he was looking at a hole that punched through a dozen dimensions and opened into the past, into a number of time periods in the past, and he could see where the river had once flowed through this spot.

  At that moment, a force very much like gravity pulled him toward the arc. He resisted and turned to flee, but it grew stronger with every passing second. It was like running through water. Two of Alice’s little automatons were sucked squeaking toward the arc. They struggled against the force that pulled at them, but their propellers had been damaged by the Impossible Cube and in the end they were dragged through the arc. The automatons sheered and shredded and vanished with a human-sounding scream. On the other side, the water bubbled and boiled like a cauldron, though it stayed on the other side. The Impossible Cube sat perfectly still on the table.

  Dr. Clef managed to wrap his arms around one of the table legs and hold on. Gavin, now on hands and knees, made it back to Alice, who was still lying on the g
round. She had braced her feet against an outcrop of brick on the floor and had caught hold of Feng’s wrist with her iron-bound hand. The spider’s eyes glowed green. How were they going to get out? Gavin felt himself being dragged backward. Alice’s hair was drawn forward over her face. Fear for himself and for Alice and Feng made Gavin’s heart beat against his spine. The force abruptly strengthened, and it lifted Feng bodily from the ground. Wind roared through the turbine room.

  “Hang on, Feng!” Alice cried. “Don’t let go!”

  And then Gavin lost his grip on the floor and tumbled backward toward the arc.

  Susan Phipps felt the strange pull even on the staircase, and she nearly lost her balance. So did Glenda, who only saved herself by clutching at the handrail.

  “What the bloody hell?” Glenda said.

  “It’s that clockworker,” Phipps replied. “If I read those notes we found on the train correctly, he’s planning to do something with time. Michaels and Ennock must be helping him.”

  Her fury grew. It felt like she had been chasing Alice Michaels and Gavin Ennock for most of her life. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had a good night’s sleep or actually enjoyed a meal or simply sat and rested. Michaels and Ennock had become her entire world, and when had that happened?

  A sudden urge overcame her, an overwhelming desire to simply turn and walk away. No one would know except Glenda, and she would keep her mouth shut if ordered. It would be so easy.

  Then an image of her father standing on the front steps with the carpet bags at his feet sprang into her mind. Justice and fairness, always. They had gotten her where she was now. It was impossible to give them up just because it was inconvenient. She firmed her jaw and continued more carefully down the stairs, ready to do what was right.

  And if her current path was wrong? Even… unjust? She paused for a long moment, caught between balanced concepts.

  “Lieutenant?” Glenda asked behind her.

  Phipps abruptly straightened her back. “I’m fine,” she said sharply. “Let’s keep going.”

  At the bottom, she found the door already open, and beyond lay an enormous room filled with giant metal snail shells, strange machinery, and the very people she’d been chasing all this time. A metal arc glowed an evil red and seemed to be sucking everything greedily into itself, gaining power with every passing moment. Even as she watched, two of Alice’s little automatons were sucked into it and destroyed. The other automatons, including that stupid cat Click, managed to limp around to the back of one of the turbines and cling there as Alice braced herself against a line of bricks on the floor. The force reached outward and pulled at Phipps even more strongly.

  “What’s happening?” Glenda said.

  “Run up and grab that rope from the top of the stairwell.” Phipps drew a multiple coil dispersal pistol that she had snatched from the Cossack armory and twisted the charging unit. It whined with eager power. “We’re going to end this.”

  Alice saw Gavin go by. Without thinking, she flung out her right hand and actually managed to catch his arm. Her shoulders burned. She was holding two men now, with her feet braced against the brick outcrop as wind tore past her face and hair. Her eyes met Gavin’s. Oh God—her grip was slipping, and it felt like her arms were coming out of their sockets. Feng clutched her forearm with the power she had ordered him to use. She couldn’t keep this up.

  The dreadful force increased again. Alice screamed, still holding on.

  “Let go!” Feng shouted. His words came out framed by the horrible spider on his face. “Alice, let me go! If you don’t, we’ll all die!”

  The idea was unthinkable. Guilt overwhelmed her. It was her fault Feng was in this position in the first place. She could save him. She would save him. Both him and Gavin.

  “No!” she shouted back. “I won’t let you die!”

  “You can’t save us both,” he said. “Some people don’t want to be saved. Let go!”

  Her arms burned like lava and her fingers quivered. Dr. Clef huddled at the table, able to use his arms and legs to resist the power of the arc. Alice swallowed. She had been forced to give up her mother, her brother, and her father. Why should she give up her friend?

  “Let me go, Alice!” Feng shouted. “I can help!”

  A tear formed in her eye and leaped across the room into the boiling water of the arc. She didn’t have the strength to save them both, to save everyone. Either a few would die, or everyone would die. It wasn’t fair, but it would be even worse to let everyone perish because she couldn’t let go. She looked at Gavin again, and he nodded. With a scream of agony and anger, she let Feng go.

  Feng flew backward, straight toward the arc. But as he fell, he angled his body so that he struck the table. Even over the wind, Alice heard bone snap, though Feng’s face remained stoic. He bounced sideways and managed to latch on to Dr. Clef.

  “Was, denn?” Dr. Clef sputtered.

  Feng snap-punched him twice. Dr. Clef’s eyes glazed over, and he let go of the table. Together Feng and Dr. Clef fell toward the arc and hit the eye. Alice wanted to look away, but couldn’t. When the two men struck the eye, flesh and bone shredded as if forced through a sieve made of razors. A cloud of blood and meat misted before the arc, hung for a tiny moment, and was sucked into the boiling water beyond. Alice cried out again.

  Do whatever it takes to help! Gavin had ordered. Feng had done exactly that and gotten just what he had wanted. Alice felt only heart-wrenching sorrow.

  Gavin grabbed hold of Alice’s free hand, the one with the spider on it, and the spider’s eyes glowed red. It was easier to hold on to one person, though she couldn’t do it indefinitely, and whatever force was pulling them toward the arc showed no signs of abating. Her desperation grew, as did the fear on Gavin’s face.

  “What do we do?” she shouted.

  He shook his head. His feet were trying to find purchase on the brick floor, but they were continually drawn out from under him. His hand slipped, and Alice forced herself to grab harder, though she was growing more and more tired.

  “You have the cure,” he yelled. “Let me go and save yourself!”

  A cold fist clutched her heart and her breath came hard. “Not you. Never you!”

  “Alice—”

  And then Susan Phipps was there. A rope was wrapped around her waist and she was playing it out with her mechanical hand like a mountain climber. Her silver-streaked hair streamed out like Alice’s. The sight was so surprising, it took Alice a moment to understand what—who—she was looking at.

  “You’re both idiots,” Phipps shouted. From a holster at her waist, she drew a fat pistol.

  Alice’s heart sank, though she didn’t dare loosen her grip on Gavin to defend herself. Still, it was too much. “Damn you!” she shouted back. “Kill us, then! See if it makes you feel better.”

  “Phipps!” Gavin cried. “Don’t!”

  Phipps fired—straight at the top of the turbine. A red beam lanced through the air and struck the spot where the shaft met the generator. Smoke formed and was pulled into the boiling arc. Then the generator shaft jumped away from the turbine shaft with a terrible grinding noise. Deprived of its energy source, the generator powered down. The arc’s glow faded, the eye and the boiling water vanished. Gavin dropped on top of Alice as the force abruptly ceased. The Impossible Cube trembled for a moment, went still, then released a burst of red energy. Alice braced herself for another slamming, but the energy went through her with only a strange sensation, as if something briefly crawled over all her bones at once. The Cube darkened, though it continued to give off a faint phosphorescent blue light.

  Alice lay panting beneath Gavin. His weight was both welcome and crushing at the same time. Her arms had the strength of wet string, and she couldn’t even summon the energy to ask him to move. At last he heaved himself aside and dragged himself upright on trembling limbs to face Phipps, who was calmly untying the rope from around her waist and winding her hair back into a twist.

&
nbsp; “If you had done that from the start, none of this would have happened,” Phipps said. “For all your talent, you’re still a rookie, Agent Ennock.”

  “Why?” Gavin gasped, echoing Alice’s thoughts.

  “I don’t answer to you,” Phipps replied coolly. “And you are welcome.”

  “Er… thank you.” Alice felt like an admonished schoolgirl.

  “We shouldn’t stay,” Phipps added. “I don’t think it’s safe.”

  Alice summoned the strength to sit up. “Oh, come now! After everything you put us through, you owe us an explanation and you damned well know it!”

  Phipps sighed and thawed a little. “If I can make the great Alice, Baroness Michaels, curse, I suppose I can offer an explanation.” She looked away for a moment. “Into the Doomsday Vault, I’ve put clockworker inventions that could uproot islands, let people move instantly from place to place, and make the human race immortal. But an invention that would stop time…” She shook her head. “I was so worried about justice itself that I lost sight of whom justice was for. What justice is there in letting clockworkers seize destiny from mankind? The time of the clockworker needs to end, and it needs to end now.”

  “What does that mean to us?” Gavin was weaving, but kept his feet.

  “It means, Mr. Ennock, that I am personally going to escort you and the baroness to China to spread her cure. It is fair.”

  “Goddamn you, Lieutenant!” Glenda Teasdale appeared in the door to the stairwell with a pistol of her own. “After all this, you turn out like Simon? I’ll see you in hell!”

  “Agent Teasdale!” Phipps barked. “Lower your weapon!”

  “Michaels stole everything from me!” Glenda moved farther into the room, her pistol still trained on Alice. “She stole my profession and my life! She has to pay.”

  “It would not be just, Agent Teasdale,” Phipps said. “She’s already paid, and paid, and paid. And so have we. It’s time to stop. For both of us.”