Broken People

by Ioana Visan

  “How did you get here?” Nicholas asked.

  “The car …” The man on the left groaned.

  “We left it by the warehouse.”

  So he knew the who, the how, and the why. “What happened then?”

  “That … that thing—” The less chatty man pointed at the bot with a trembling hand.

  “Attacked us! We didn’t make it to the train.”

  Nicholas had enough information to proceed. He sent a low electrical current to the mapped areas and short-circuited the cells, destroying the encoded data in the process. The eyes of both men rolled back, and they slumped on their sides in awkward positions.

  He gave Fei Lin one last look, wondering what she was thinking of the power display, but since he couldn’t read anything on the metallic face, Nicholas grabbed his coat and opened the door.

  Rake and Spinner raised their eyebrows.

  “It’s done.” He climbed out of the car. Somewhere behind him, the bot moved to follow him, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. “Get their car from the warehouse and drop them into town. They won’t remember anything when they wake up.”

  Before they could ask any questions, Nicholas stalked off in the direction of his car. No one followed him, and that was a good thing. He wanted to be alone. He needed to think.

  It didn’t take long until Anya peeked inside and found him pacing in the solitude of his cluttered room. The Hrad blueprints lay on the table, but Nicholas’s thoughts couldn’t have been farther away from them.

  “This isn’t a good time,” he said.

  “Nick, I’ve heard …” Her voice trailed off. “They shouldn’t have made you do that.”

  “They didn’t.” This was his own doing, like all of the screwed-up events in his life.

  “Still …” Anya stepped into the room and let out a small sigh.

  “It’s done, okay?” He snapped. And he had to live with it. He’d always wondered how long it would take him to cross over to the dark side. No need to wait for the answer anymore. Big Dino would be proud—another freak added to his growing collection.

  Anya drew in a long, calming breath, and her features recomposed themselves into a concerned mask. She was in full damage control mode. “Are you all right?”

  Nicholas held out his right hand. It wasn’t shaking. Dealing with small things didn’t consume that much of his strength, yet another reason his ability was more frightening. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” Anya took his hand in hers and cradled it against her chest. The pump that had replaced her heart years ago hummed softly against his fingers.

  Her touch distracted him. He needed a distraction, so he gazed into her pale, heart-shaped face and those chocolate eyes that searched his, looking for signs of distress. Oh, they were there, he didn’t doubt it, regardless of how hard he tried to hide them.

  But Anya possessed the keen ability to see through his layers of disguise. She’d seen his desperation that day at the café when she discreetly pointed him in the direction of the circus. From that day forward, she had felt responsible for his fate for some reason when, in fact, she’d probably saved his life. He always found it ironic to be protected by a woman whom he could break with one thought.

  Nicholas squeezed her delicate fingers and pushed some of his anguish aside. “I’ll be fine.”

  That was a promise he intended to keep.

  42

  “Nervous?”

  Dale glanced at Aurore as they walked into the Hrad’s yard. Her high heels clicked on the macadam. There were many visitors, so the car access had been restricted to outside the main gate. In the light coming out through the long row of rectangular windows, her legs glowed faintly.

  For the first time since he’d met Aurore, her cocktail dress stopped above her knees, and she didn’t wear boots, which put her golden legs on display. The short gloves left her wrists and part of her forearms bare, too. So she wasn’t always hiding. Or maybe she did it to distract attention from what was going to happen later tonight. Well, it worked. People turned their heads more often than usual.

  “I don’t have a mayor for an uncle to save my hide if this goes wrong,” he said.

  “Oh, he won’t be saving my hide this time.”

  The hint of dark amusement in her voice worried him. They were approaching the entrance, and she still hadn’t told him what she wanted him to steal from the vault for her. Dale took a step closer and leaned in to whisper, “Well?”

  Aurore needed a moment to figure out what he meant then replied in a similar whisper, “Cryo boxes.”

  Cryo boxes were used for storing body parts for later use. Four. Dale’s eyes involuntarily jumped to her hands. Did she mean limbs? Why would anyone hide them inside the Hrad? And whose limbs were they?

  Aurore sustained his inquisitive gaze without flinching, and Dale nodded in acknowledgement. That secret was hers to keep.

  They entered the building and admired the galleries. Many people stopped to talk with Aurore, so Dale worked on being a socialite. Being a thief or an enforcer was much easier. But most conversations revolved around war, and that was one topic he knew a lot about. The most difficult part was not showing exactly how much he knew. Keeping his mouth shut and letting Aurore do the talking was not a problem, though.

  She made an effort to appear more approachable, and people took the time to bow to the golden queen. Several men threw Dale envious looks as he stood by her side, while women envied her for the gracious way she carried herself and her flawless look. If he hadn’t been on the job, Dale would have taken a moment to enjoy it, too, but he couldn’t let that appealing sight distract him, no matter how close she was. The arctic cold still lay between them.

  Aurore’s eyes met her uncle’s with a warm smile. Mayor Ternchiev treated Dale to a familiar up and down look as if surprised to see him still there, and grunted his approval. “I’m glad you came. There’s a temporary Pre-Raphaelite painting collection worth visiting, and you must see our prehistoric Venus of Moravany.”

  Dale wasn’t an art expect, but he imagined any prehistoric statue must have lost some limbs over the centuries, and he wasn’t sure that needed to be mentioned in Aurore’s presence.

  “I’m more interested in the Hungarian crown jewels,” she said.

  “I know, my dear.” Ternchiev gave her an indulgent smile. “Unfortunately, they left the castle in the sixteenth century and haven’t returned since. Now, what I’m proposing is—” he rubbed his hands, “—explore the exhibitions, catch the concert in the Music Hall, then a late supper in The Castle restaurant, followed by a moonlight walk in the Baroque garden.”

  “Or we could make our own schedule,” Aurore said with a sweet, but challenging grin.

  “Or you can do that, too.” The older man’s defeated nod proved he knew when to pick his battles. “But you mustn’t miss the circus! They should be here soon, and Renard assured me it’s going to be stupendous.”

  Aurore’s hand clenched Dale’s arm. She relaxed her hold the following second, but the damage was done. She was nervous, too. A crease appeared between her blonde eyebrows.

  Pretending not to notice, Dale covered her hand with his. “We’re looking forward to the show.” He brushed his fingers against her wrist. Her artificial skin was smooth and warm.

  Aurore shivered, the smile frozen on her face.

  “Good, good! I’ll see you later then. I need to talk to …” Ternchiev walked away, heading towards the most elegant group of people in the hall.

  “He’s as excited as a kid, isn’t he?” Dale commented.

  “Oh, don’t let that appearance fool you,” she said. “He’s as shrewd as a fox. And speaking of foxes …” She turned in the direction of the entrance.

  Renard had just stepped into the hall, and seeing them, walked towards them. He tipped his top hat at Aurore, and shook hands with Dale. He wore the regular tailcoat and white gloves, even though he wasn’t going to perform tonight.

 
“Ready for the show?” Aurore asked with a pleasant smile.

  It had become clear she didn’t find the magician threatening. Odd, since he was the most dangerous person in the room.

  “We’re always ready.” Nicholas grinned. “The crew is filling the yard right now, preparing to make a big entrance.”

  Dale checked the time. The show was supposed to last forty minutes, with a fifteen minute song set meant to keep the audience calm and less curious when part of the crew disappeared. Hopefully, it would be enough.

  Trumpets broke the eerie silence in the entrance hall. The visitors started and turned towards the exit.

  The doors opened.

  “Listen up, people! The Nightingale Circus is here!”

  43

  With his back against a pillar and his arms folded across his chest, Nicholas watched the audience’s reaction. Surprise, followed by curiosity, then excitement. So far, so good.

  Being too cold outside to perform anything outstanding in the yard, and having a special reason not to do it as they needed an excuse to be inside, the circus crew invaded the main hall. At first, the audience pulled back when confronted with the loud and colorful invasion, but soon, people relaxed as they realized there was no danger. Dancers spread through the crowd, tickling the visitors with their feathers, while the clowns juggled shiny balls, and the stilt men reached up to the ceiling.

  As usual, waiting for the proper moment, Anya made her flashy entrance. Even her costume exuded drama with black-and-white contrasts, and a mask that emphasized it with a visage of a slightly aggravated Swan. Nicholas made a note to congratulate Cielo on the seamstress work. Anya winked as she passed him.

  He might have been bold and blown her a kiss at the circus, regardless of how much trouble it would have gotten him into later. But here, he was a respectable circus owner who couldn’t risk such a gesture. He smiled at her instead.

  At the end of one of her signature pirouettes, the gymnasts smoothly pulled attention to their act. Their jumps and somersaults culminated in one giant human pyramid. Riella climbed on it, all the way to the top, to reach a wide, red ring hanging from a metal bar the stilt men held on their shoulders.

  Her routine lasted for a few more minutes, and then the doors opened again. In an orgy of lights and sounds, Cole maneuvered his transporter in, coming close to scratching the plaster off the walls. Rake and Skinner had painted the vehicle in rainbow colors, so instead of soulless white, it sparkled in shades of red and purple with yellows and greens splashed in between. The arms and legs moved with confidence, and they spread enough to allow the audience to see the swirl of pink and blue fur trapped in a wire cage below the body of the transporter. Excited by the presence of so many people, the menzataxor didn’t stand still for a second.

  Positioned on either side of the transporter, Rake and Spinner threw knives at each other between the machine’s legs, occasionally skewering flying balls in the process.

  Like a spider on its web, Riella lowered herself until she grabbed one of the mobile arms and hung onto it.

  Not about to let her take the spotlight, Anya emerged from the crowd and glided in a series of graceful moves up next to Cole. Once she effortlessly climbed on top of the transporter, she opened her mouth and sang. The Nightingale’s voice came out through her lips.

  The audience stared in awe, and no one noticed Cielo and Rosie entering the hall. Cielo, in her sequined dress and a scarf wrapped around her neck, slipped into the back of the crowd. Her golden mask was frozen in an elusive smile, but her lips moved behind it, producing the most enchanting notes. Getting the mask to freeze had been almost as difficult as re-growing Cole’s nerves, but Spinner had somehow managed it.

  With an armful of roses, Rosie circled the hall and offered every woman in the audience a strongly-scented flower. She’d cleaned up for the occasion and had put on a cute little pearl-gray dress, and her sandy blonde hair had been styled into a mass of soft ringlets surrounding her pretty face. No one could resist that angel face with big gray eyes. All she had to do was remember to smile with her lips closed.

  Nicholas gave her a small nod, his eyes only leaving the Swan’s act to investigate the people’s faces. Was it too much? Who overreacted to the singing? He didn’t like putting Anya in danger, but having her impersonate the Nightingale for a short while was a risk they had to take. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with the circus leaving the city in the morning and not returning for a long time, whether they succeeded or not.

  When the last song ended, he walked up to the transporter and offered his hand to help her down. Anya took it and descended without looking at Riella, who hadn’t finished her acrobatic number. She was the star, more now that she’d sung, and deserved all the attention she got. That was why what he was going to do next would hurt her so much.

  Slipping an arm around her waist, Nicholas tapped his fingers on her rib cage. The panel slid open, and he pushed his hand inside, looking for a switch that wasn’t there. Anya froze, turning into a beautiful, lifeless statue.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “The Nightingale couldn’t be with us tonight, but she lent us her voice.”

  He picked Anya up and moved her to the window, giving the established signal. His fingers lingered on her waist before releasing her, and he made sure to close the panel in her chest. Feeling the pump pulsate against his hand had been unnerving this time.

  Small, prearranged explosions, sounding like gunshots, filled the yard with colorful smoke, and the visitors rushed to the doors to see what was going on. Few stayed behind, glued to the windows and not paying attention to the activity behind them.

  Rosie crawled under the transporter and released the menzataxor. A smile split her face the instant the furry animal curled up against her chest, purring loudly like an army of drunk cats. Everybody around her would be smiling as soon as she introduced them to her colorful friend.

  “Walk him around when they get back inside,” Nicholas told the little girl. Even with her in this happy state, he didn’t make the mistake of patting her head.

  Rosie giggled, and her laugh echoed inside the deserted hall.

  Nicholas glanced one last time around the place. Riella had taken her position in the doorway. The cold air rushing in made her shiver, but she would provide enough of a distraction if needed. The stilt men guarded the access to the grand staircase, and Rake and Spinner were already heading that way, waving at Cole to follow them.

  “Let’s go,” Nicholas said with a nod to Dale.

  Serioja stood by Cielo’s side, his muscles flexing in anticipation. She would be safe with him around.

  In the yard, Fei Lin performed an aerial ballet, consisting of a series of vaulted jumps. She had better not make holes in the pavement with her hard landings. Big Dino wouldn’t be pleased if they had to pay for repairs.

  “Wait here,” Dale said to Aurore and rushed after them.

  The Golden Lady pursed her lips and exchanged a glance with Nicholas but stayed put.

  44

  Renard went ahead to lead the way to the upper floor, but Dale remained behind, close to Cole. He eyed the grand staircase with concern, worried it might turn into a challenge for the transporter. The multi-joint legs were not designed to climb steps. A tank would have made it easier, but Spinner disagreed.

  Cole’s whole body wobbled when he touched the first step. He took in a deep breath and tried again. One step after another, the command system connected to the nerves in his spine had him advancing with increasing speed. Perhaps this would work after all, even if he sometimes forgot to coordinate the free legs and they dragged uselessly behind him.

  On the first floor, they slowly moved along the corridor. Dale made no sound. Cole was reasonably quiet, considering the sheer size of his machine. The knife throwers were unexpectedly loud, each heavy step landing with a thud. The devices inside their shoulders and upper arms let out a low hum that wasn’t normally audible, but these weren’t normal circumstances.
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  Several meters ahead, Renard went in and out of sight, signaling them when to advance and when to stop. They had the surveillance system under control, but there were also human guards patrolling the castle. Twice, Renard threw out his hand: Wait! If there was anyone in the adjacent corridors, Dale didn’t see them when they passed.

  Rake unlocked the door leading to the Parliament wing, and they squeezed through to the other side. This part of the castle was closed to the public at night, so they could relax some. The southwest tower was just around the corner.

  After another set of heavy doors, they reached the vault room. Renard waited in the corridor, keeping an eye on what was happening outside. Dale walked with Cole to the round, metal door.

  “This is it,” he said. “Can you open it?”

  Cole blinked once, his eyes fixated on the simple, round metal door. The collar that supported his jaw made nodding impossible.

  Dale clenched his teeth. They should have attached a speaking device to his vocal cords, something similar to what they had done to the Swan, but there had been no time, and speech wasn’t mandatory for his job. The mobile arms helped some; too bad he didn’t have better control to use them instead of his real ones.

  Rake opened one side of the transporter and pulled out a drawer loaded with tools. He nodded at Spinner.

  “Okay, here we go…,” Spinner murmured. He fussed over the cases that protected Cole’s arms, checked the dials, and pressed a pair of buttons.

  The cases opened simultaneously, the top covers sliding to the side, revealing Cole’s arms. Under the yellow gel covering them, the skin hadn’t regenerated yet, but the exposed flesh showed no more burn marks.

  He didn’t move, not even a finger twitched. Dale frowned. Something had gone wrong. They had come all this way for nothing. Or had they? Spinner gave Cole a shot, and Cole groaned as the anesthesia quickly wore off. He needed a clear head and total control over what was left of his nerves and muscles to perform the job.