This time the old butler led the group to the mayor’s drawing room upstairs. As they entered, River saw the mayor standing near the massive stone fireplace, talking quietly to the chief constable. The magistrate was nearby, sitting in one of the leather chairs with a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. Across from him sat the old toymaker, looking as lost and out of place as a puppy dog that had been abandoned in the street.
Across the room from the fireplace was a billiard table, and halfway between, against the inside wall, was a bar. Plush carpet and tapestries decorated the entire room, and it was furnished with luxurious leather armchairs and a sofa. On the outer wall, a row of french doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the city. With a cheerful fire crackling in the giant fireplace, and the festival lights twinkling all over the city outside the windows, it was easily the most desirable room in the entire mansion.
“Excellent, we’re all here,” the mayor said as they joined the others. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. Thank you all for coming.”
“What is this all about, exactly?” said the constable.
The mayor settled into the chair at his desk, adjacent to the bar. “I thought it was obvious. We’re here to solve the situation regarding Socrates and his train.”
Magistrate Larkin blew a cloud of smoke in the mayor’s direction. “I’m not going to change my mind, Eagan. This case has been decided.”
“And you?” said the mayor, glancing at the toymaker. “Are you equally obstinate?”
The toymaker glanced nervously around the room, clearly aware that he was in the presence of his betters. “I’m not a wealthy man,” he said. “You must understand. I appreciate Socrates for the stunning creature he is. I truly do. And yet, I have a living to make. If I could but see the internal mechanisms that make him operate-”
“You wouldn’t understand them,” Socrates said bluntly. “No more than you would understand an electric lamp. I am comprised of technologies that none of you could comprehend; which in fact, even I don’t fully understand.”
“But if I could just see them,” said the toymaker. “I’m very good with such things…”
Socrates clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. The magistrate sipped his drink, and the chief constable wandered over to gaze out through the windows across the city.
The mayor put his elbows on the desk and tapped his fingertips together. “What if I offer to purchase Socrates from you?” he said, eyeing the toymaker.
Isaak glanced back and forth between the others, but his gaze kept going back to Socrates. “That is generous of you, Mr. Mayor, but you must understand my position. This machine is worth more than the sum of its parts to me. It’s not a simple matter.”
“It should be,” Micah said suddenly. He was standing next to the fireplace, and they all turned at once, as if no one had realized he was there. “You can’t recreate Socrates. You will destroy him and then he will be of no value to anyone. Not that I’m going to let you try…”
The toymaker’s eyebrows went up. “Are you threatening me, little man?”
“All right,” said the mayor. “That’s enough of that. It seems we have reached an impasse. Is there no one here who will listen to reason?”
“The law is the law,” said the magistrate, blowing a puff of smoke up toward the ceiling.
“And business is business,” said the toymaker.
“Magistrate, you read the letter from my cousin. You’ve seen the evidence with your own eyes. Socrates is an autonomous creature. He is alive!”
“Think of the future,” said the magistrate. “I won’t have a city where snowshovels and steamcarriages are considered human beings! I won’t be responsible for it.”
“Perhaps if you went to see my cousin,” said the mayor. “If you knew how Socrates had reacted with other humans, before he ever came here?”
“It would be a waste of fuel,” said the magistrate. “It wouldn’t change my mind. Besides, do you even realize what it costs to operate my airship? The cost of coal alone would bankrupt someone like you.”
The chief constable had wandered over to the windows and was gazing out over the city. He cleared his throat and glanced back over his shoulder. “Speaking of your airship, Magistrate… where is it?”
“Don’t play jokes with me, constable. I’m not in the mood. It’s tethered to the tower, right where it always is.”
“I’m not joking,” said the constable. He stepped aside, offering a clear view through the windows. The magistrate squinted as he leaned forward and then, grumbling, pulled himself out of his chair.
“What the devils?” he said as he approached the windows. He spun around, glaring at Socrates. “Do you have something to do with this?”
Socrates stared back at him.
“Look there!” Micah said, pointing. Over the southern horizon, they saw the lights of the airship blinking against the backdrop of stars. “It must be at least fifty miles away.”
“I’ll have someone’s head for this!” the magistrate shouted. He raced out onto the balcony, and the others swarmed out after him.
“Maybe you should take your own head,” said the mayor. “Clearly this is the work of your new business associate.”
“Burk?” said the magistrate. His eyes grew wide. “Of course! That’s it. He was working with the rest of you, wasn’t he? You’re all a bunch of thieves!”
“Ridiculous,” the mayor dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “You’re the one who went into business with a criminal. When you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas. You should have learned that by now.”
Magistrate Larkin hurled his whiskey glass over the balcony with a snarl, and it shattered on the snow-covered pavestones below. He spun around and caught the chief constable by the collar. “Go after him!” he shouted. “Go get my airship!”
“How?” said the constable. “We don’t have anything that can keep up with an airship. Horses won’t do it, and steam carriages certainly can’t follow it.”
The constable considered this for a moment. “You!” he said, poking a finger into Socrates’ chest. “That train of yours… can it catch an airship?”
“Possibly,” said Socrates.
“Constable, commandeer the train.”
“That’s impossible.”
“What? Are you defying me, you miserable pissant?”
“Of course not! It’s just that we don’t know how it works. Nobody knows how to operate that train. We were going to use it for scrap, remember?”
The magistrate threw his hands in the air. He glanced at Eagan, who was chuckling quietly. “You did this, Eagan. I don’t know how, but somehow you masterminded this whole thing.”
The mayor rolled his eyes. “Open your eyes to what the rest of us can clearly see, magistrate. You brought this on yourself. I can’t help you now. I tried to come to some sort of agreement with you, but you wouldn’t listen to reason. Now it’s out of my hands.”
“All right then,” said the Magistrate, turning to face Socrates. “You! Go get my ship! If you do this for me, I will reward you and your crew handsomely. I’m very wealthy.”
A smile crept over the ape’s features. “I would, Magistrate, but I’m afraid the case has been closed. I am the property of the toymaker, and that’s not my train anymore.”
The magistrate closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. His fists clenched and unclenched at his side. “Fine! Devils take you all! I hereby rescind the entire order. You are free, and the train is yours.”
“I’m afraid I’ll need to see that on paper,” Socrates said.
The magistrate’s jaw dropped and he stared at Socrates, speechless for perhaps the first time in his entire career.
The mayor cleared his throat. “I just happen to have some paper in my desk,” he said.
The magistrate threw his cigar down and stomped back into the room. “Fine,” he said between clenched teeth. “Oh, and look. I see we just happen to have two witnesses
here.”
“Of course,” said the mayor. “The constable and I would more than happy to accommodate you.”
“One more thing,” added Socrates. “If you want me to go after Burk, you’re going to have to deputize me.”
Chapter 26
The conversation exploded. The constable swore he would never deputize a machine. The magistrate shouted that he would do what he was told or resign. The mayor goaded them on, reminding Larkin that the entire situation was his own fault, and River said something about killing anyone who laid a hand on Socrates. When the toymaker realized that he had just lost ownership of his prize, he stormed out of the mansion threatening to sue the city, the court, and anyone else he could think of. The magistrate was equally furious, and equally helpless to do anything about it.
When the clamor subsided, the serious negotiations began. Magistrate Larkin was understandably eager to have the documents signed and the Iron Horse on its way, but the matter was not so easily resolved. This was due in part to the mayor’s helpful negotiation tactics, which seemed to benefit Socrates and his crew greatly, and largely at the expense of the magistrate. Since so many of the Horse’s supplies had been stolen, the mayor offered to allow the crew to scavenge the railroad depot for any parts and tools they could use. Not only this, but he also said the city would replenish the Iron Horse’s stores of food, supplies, and coal.
Naturally, the magistrate grumbled louder and louder as the negotiations went on, but in the end, there was nothing he could do. He knew that Socrates was his only chance of getting his airship back, and Socrates knew it as well. By the time it was all said and done, the constable and the mayor had agreed to erase all charges from their criminal records and to officially acknowledge Socrates as the world’s first and only self-aware machine. The ape was also deputized as a bounty hunter in the employ of the city of New Boston, fully licensed to track down Burk and bring him to justice, dead or alive.
At last, all parties signed the document. The chief constable gave Socrates a badge and a copy of his bounty agreement, and the magistrate left the mansion wearing a scowl that startled the servants on his way out. After the others had left, and only the mayor and the crewmembers remained in the room, River approached the mayor.
“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you.”
The mayor beamed as he took her hands in his own. “I only did what was honorable and right. You have no need to thank me.”
“Did you know?” she said. “About Burk, I mean.”
His smiled widened. “Are you asking whether I knew that a known thief, when presented with the opportunity to steal a valuable airship loaded with fuel and supplies, would do exactly what was in his nature to do? Because if that’s what you’re asking, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
With that, he called for Bryn and ordered his carriage readied. “Our guests are ready to leave,” he said with a wink. “We should do all that we can to accommodate them.”
It was midnight and snowing again when the companions finally returned to the depot. As they approached the train, River saw that the city workers had already begun filling the tender car. Kale and the others saw the carriage coming their way, and came rushing out of the train to meet them. As the driver reined in the horses and the carriage came to a shaking halt, River noticed Thane among the crewmembers. She glanced at Socrates.
“There are some things we need to talk about,” she said in a low voice. “Some things about the crew…”
“We’ll have time to talk later. I need you to scour the depot while I prepare for departure. Be on the lookout for tools and supplies to replace those that were stolen.”
“Before you leave,” said the mayor. “There is a legend, a story similar to the one you told us about the star that fell from the heavens.”
“Yes, I believe it was a comet,” said Socrates.
“We have a legend about something similar happening very long ago. There is a chain of islands just off the southern coast. They form a circle four miles across, and there are many strange stories surrounding the place. Stories about two-headed beasts, fire breathing dragons, and all that sort of nonsense. If you want to find this starfall, that may be the place to look.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cronwyn.”
“Be forewarned. The place is dangerous. Every ship we’ve sent that way has never returned. Only a few sailors survived over the years, bringing us tales of pirates and monsters that would chill your blood.”
“If we end up there, we will heed your warning.”
They climbed out of the carriage and found the entire crew waiting. They cheered as they saw Socrates drop to the snowy ground. River stepped out behind him. As she looked over their faces, she saw Kale in their midst, a full head taller than anyone else, with Pirate curled up on his shoulder. River stepped down from the carriage and found herself surrounded by smiling, admiring faces. As the crowd moved around her, she shortly found herself face to face with Kale. Thane and Shayla stood just behind him.
“I see you let Pirate out of my bunkroom,” she said.
“I couldn’t leave him in there with all the excitement going on,” said Kale. “He might have been hurt. Besides, he likes me. See?” He reached up to pat Pirate on the head, and the coon purred lovingly.
“He should,” said Thane. “Kale has been feeding him snacks since the minute you left the train.”
Kale pretended not to hear the bard’s comment. Socrates appeared next to them.
“The Mayor is leaving now,” he said. “We should be on our way within the hour.”
“Not a moment too soon,” said River.
“Oh?” said Socrates. “I thought you had begun to like it here, particularly with the mayor showering you with gifts and attention.”
“Gifts?” said Kale. “What gifts?” The warrior and the bard exchanged concerned glances. Shayla rolled her eyes.
“He really was a sweet man,” River said with a sly grin. “I believe I will miss him.”
River turned away from the group and headed in the direction of the depot. Kale hurried after her with Thane right at his heels.
“What’s that smell?” Kale said loudly. “Is that perfume… River?”
Socrates watched them for a moment, grinning as they vanished into the depot. He turned back to the train and found Shayla staring at him.
“Yes?” he said quietly.
“What did she tell you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t toy with me,” she said. “Things have changed. I need to know where I stand.”
“She didn’t tell me anything,” said Socrates. “Not about your transmitter, or your spying, or anything else.”
Shayla’s eyes bulged. “Then how did you know?”
“How do you think I knew?” he said, stepping past her. “This is my train.”
Shayla stared after the ape as he walked across the railroad yard, back towards town.
Not far away, Constable Shepp was making his rounds. He was in a sour mood, having not only lost his battle in court, but more recently discovering that the magistrate had freed the entire crew of the Iron Horse and sent them on their way. Shepp was full of dark thoughts as he turned the corner and saw three men fighting in the street outside the Black Gull Saloon. He approached quietly, reaching out to tap the wall with his nightstick as he came upon them.
“Help,” the man on the ground cried out. “They’re robbing me!”
“Just takin’ back what’s ours!” one of the men said. “He was cheatin’ at the dice table.”
The two men backed away as the constable came closer. He looked them up and down and then gazed down at the victim. The man’s left eye was swollen shut and blood stained his lips. His breath came in gasps. He had four broken ribs, but the constable didn’t look close enough to know that.
“How much did you take?” Shepp said, thumping his nightstick against the palm of his hand. The taller man reach
ed into his coat and pulled out a coin purse. The constable snatched it out of his hand. He tossed it into the air and caught it, testing the weight.
“Thanks for your contribution, gents.”
They stared after him as Shepp proceeded to the end of the street and turned the corner.
The constable pressed on, moving deeper into the squalor and decay of Southside, his feet crunching against the fresh powdery snow on the cobblestones, his breath steaming into the cold night. The street lamps disappeared, replaced by the occasional bonfire or barrel of burning trash. The shadows deepened in the doorways and alleys around him.
Had the constable been paying attention, he might have noticed a dark figure slipping down the street behind him. He may have seen the furry, broad-shouldered simian beast scaling the wall of a nearby building to creep along its rooftop. Unfortunately, Constable Shepp was too deep in his thoughts; too bent on his mission. At last, he turned into an alley.
An old man huddled in the light of a small fire, his shadow dancing on the brick wall behind him. Though he was wrapped in blankets, he shivered violently, and when the constable arrived, the old man seemed to pay no attention. For a moment, Shepp stood there looking down on him, the only sounds those of the old man’s labored breathing and the crackling fire.
“You disappeared after the trial,” the constable said, breaking the silence. His voice echoed between the close walls of the alleyway.
The old man pulled his gaze away from the flames. He fixed Shepp with a cold stare. “You got what you wanted,” he grumbled. “Where’s my money?”
“What money?”
“What you promised!” the old man shouted. “We had an agreement, damn you!” He pushed to his feet, drawing a dagger from his boot as he rose. Shepp lashed out with his nightstick. The beggar twisted aside, taking the brunt of the blow on his shoulder. He cried out, falling backwards, and crashed to the ground.
“I don’t remember that agreement,” Shepp said, stepping over the fire. “I only know I’m looking at someone who knows too much and likes to talk too much. That’s a poor combination. It’s time to join your ancestors, old man.”
Killing the Machine (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 2) Page 23