by Gareth Ward
The Fixer pulled a blunderbuss pistol from his jacket. The angular Teutonian pressure pipes gleamed gold, matching his teeth. “Nobody said you could go.”
The pistol screamed twice and two massive holes appeared in Eldritch’s wings. The spy careened out of control, crashing into the facade of Oriel College, before tumbling to the cobbles with a loud crack.
Sin felt cold and his vision blurred. Above him the smog swirled, blocking out the stars. The Fixer’s pockmarked face loomed over him. “I ain’t letting you die, boy. You owe me.”
Sin closed his eyes and shuddered. His lungs rattled as all breath left his body. There were some things even the Fixer couldn’t fix.
CHAPTER 40
THE LIGHT
Bright white light filled Sin’s vision and his ears rang with the voice of an angel.
CHAPTER 41
GEARS OF EXCELLENCE
“… and Lottie returned this morning, she’s in excellent spirits despite a broken arm. So if you did decide that today was the day you were going to come round that would be posituitively fantabulous because it’s test day tomorrow and I still can’t get over the wall. Stanley’s been helping me since you left but it’s not the same and if you were there it would mean so much to me. And I know you broke into my room and saw those photographs that I keep hidden, however I’ve forgiven you for that and they’re not what they seem. Well, they are exactly what they seem although not what you think. My father was in the King’s Knights but not the traitorous ones, the real ones, the secret elite guard that protect the King and I’m so very proudilicious of him. He’d never betray COG and neither would I and I wanted you to know that so when you do come back to us there isn’t any ill feeling or doubt.”
Rising from a fug of dark dreams and half memories, Sin became aware of the fingers on his right hand. They felt warm, coddled by the hand holding his. He gently squeezed and the voice resumed.
“I’m choosing to believe that you did indeed intend to do that and it wasn’t just some random response like all the other times because you have to come back to me, Sin. So I’m going to squeeze your hand and if you’re hearing me squeeze back.”
Sin tightened his grasp and Zonda squealed.
“I’m sorry I said horrible things to you before, I didn’t mean them. Well, I probably did at the time. I was upset and was suffering from cake deprivation so my brain wasn’t thinking straight. If you returnarooney now I will posituitively always be nice to you foreverington.”
Sin tried to speak but his lips and throat were too dry and he could only murmur.
“I should probably get the nurse now, only they’ll make me leave and so first I need you to know something. I love you, Sin, and I don’t know if you’ll remember any of this when you awaken but I had to tell you.”
He felt a pleasant warmness on his lips and the sweet strawberry scent of Zonda filled the air around him.
A bell rang and Zonda shouted, “Nurse! He’s trying to speak.”
Feet scurried and Zonda’s aroma was replaced by the harsh tang of smelling salts. Sin coughed and his eyelids flickered open. The ward was bright, sparse and sterile, a far cry from the infirmary at the workhouse. A uniformed nurse leaned over him, her auburn hair tied back under a white nurse’s cap.
“Nod your head if you can understand me,” she said in a no-nonsense tone.
The muscles in his neck were stiff but Sin managed to move his head.
“Good.” She took his wrist, looked at the fob watch hanging from her apron and checked his pulse. “You’ve been unconscious for several weeks so you can expect to feel a little sore.”
Behind her Zonda jiggled on the spot. She pirouetted, her frilled dress puffing out around her.
“COG Chubb, you need to leave now,” instructed the nurse.
Sin licked his cracked lips. “No. She stays,” he croaked.
“Mr Sin, you are in no position to give orders.” The nurse’s tone was stern but the corners of her mouth turned up and she made no further effort to enforce Zonda’s departure.
The nurse reached under Sin’s arms and hauled him into a sitting position. She plumped his pillows and made sure he was comfortable. “That’s better. We don’t want you falling back to sleep. The Major’s going to want to see you.”
* * *
Zonda had left for lessons and Sin waited for the arrival of the Major. He knew he was back at the palace but on its own that meant nothing. The nurse had referred to him as Mr Sin so he must still be expelled. They were good people and had nursed him back to health but that didn’t mean he’d been forgiven. In the distance he heard the clank of the Major approaching and sat up straighter.
The hospital doors swung open and in marched Major C flanked by Lilith and Noir. The magician limped badly using an ebony walking stick to take his weight. To his surprise, Sin found that he was pleased to see him, pleased the COG agent had survived his mission, although apparently not without injury.
The Major hissed to a halt at the end of the bed and saluted. Sin raised his arm to salute back and a dull pain twinged his shoulder where Eldritch had skewered him.
“As you were,” barked Major C.
Sin relaxed his arm and massaged his shoulder.
“How are you, soldier?” asked the Major, his bushy moustache quivering.
“Dazed and confused to be honest, sir. How did I get here? Why am I not dead?”
Lilith stepped forwards. “Velvet alerted us and your friend the Fixer was happy to hand you into our care … for a finder’s fee of course.”
Sin smiled. The Fixer, always on the make but a heart of gold. Admittedly, gold that he’d murdered, cheated and robbed to acquire, but a heart of gold regardless.
“We don’t know why you’re not dead,” said Noir. “We think the blue blood has given you immunity. It was designed to protect soldiers from biological and chemical weapons.”
“And the lab?” asked Sin.
A small flame appeared in Noir’s hand. “It caught fire. As did Doctor Frankenline’s house, and indeed Doctor Frankenline.”
“Eldritch is refusing to cooperate,” said Lilith. “He has denied any involvement in the attempt on Nimrod’s life. He claims Nimrod’s genius will be crucial in the next war.”
“A war which, if not prevented, you have certainly delayed,” said Noir. “Britannia’s plan to march over Europe, poisoning all in their path, is now thwarted.”
The Major straightened. “You and COG Von Darque have done a great service, exposing the spy and for that we owe you our thanks. However, you deliberately broke a Cast-Iron Rule and I’m afraid that is something I cannot reverse.”
A whistle tooted and the hospital doors burst open. Puffing steam behind him, Nimrod piloted a walking chair towards Sin’s bed. “I think maybe you can, Major.”
Sin smiled, relieved to see that Nimrod had recovered, at least partially.
“Nothing would delight me more than to allow this young hero back into COG but the Committee’s manual is unflinching on the subject of Cast-Iron Rules,” said the Major.
“Indeed it is, though there is a precedent,” said Nimrod. “Only once has a candidate broken a Cast-Iron Rule and been allowed to stay in COG. Felicity Hawk broke the rules while preventing a surprise zeppelin raid. The Committee agreed she should be given a chance to redeem herself and if she won the Gears of Excellence trophy she would be reinstated.”
The Major smiled. “How fitting. I put forward the motion that if Sin is triumphant on the assault course tomorrow he shall be reinstated. Does the whole Committee agree?”
“Aye,” said Nimrod.
“Aye,” said Lilith.
Noir fidgeted on his walking stick. “How’s your shoulder, boy?”
“Good enough. Just give me the chance to prove it,” said Sin.
“Aye, you’ll get your chance,” Noir said.
With a delicate touch, the Major lowered his mekanikal hand onto Sin’s good shoulder. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s a bi
g day.”
CHAPTER 42
RELATIVE TRUTH
The West Wingers crowded around Sin as he entered the gym.
Stanley clapped him on the back. “Good to have you back, brother.”
“Yeah, well, I may not be back for long if I don’t win today,” said Sin, staring across the gym at Velvet.
“She only beat you before because she cheated. You’ve got her number for sure,” said Esra.
Sin rolled his shoulders and grimaced at the dull pain deep in the muscle. He may have her number, but as the knot of nervousness built in his stomach he wondered if that number was a big fat zero.
Steam belched and spurted from the course’s mekaniks, an ever-present reminder of the difficulties ahead. Adjacent to the course, pistons had raised a platform from the floor on which were seated the Committee and staff. Major C occupied the central chair, a pensive look on his face. Beside him Nimrod was in a heated discussion with Noir, who adamantly shook his head. The scientist placed a hand on the magician’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear. For the first time ever, Sin saw a genuine smile on the magician’s face. Noir held out his hand, which Nimrod clasped.
“I don’t believe it,” said Stanley.
Sin cocked his head. “You didn’t know Nimrod was better?”
“No. Nimrod’s been clattering about for days. There, walking onto the stage, that’s only Captain Felicity Hawk.”
Sin followed Stanley’s gaze to a young lady in a leather aviator’s outfit. Behind her, two staff manoeuvred a veiled portrait and easel onto the stage. Hawk carried the Gears of Excellence trophy in one hand while directing the placement of the portrait with the other.
So that was what the Major meant when he’d said it was fitting. If he won, Hawk would be the one to award him the trophy. Sin looked across the course to where Zonda fidgeted next to Trixie on the start line. His was not the only fate that would be decided today. He strode towards his friend, his attention so focused he walked straight into Sergeant Stoneheart. It was like hitting a wall. He bounced back, his shoulder in agony.
“Watch where you’re going, candidate,” barked Stoneheart.
“Sorry, Staff,” he managed to gasp and limped over to Zonda. He wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. “I think this will help you get over the wall,” he said and slipped her the perforated metal key he’d lifted from Stoneheart’s pocket.
“I can’t. That’s cheating,” said Zonda, her voice trembling.
“No, it’s improvising. Besides, if by some miracle I win, it would be for nothing if you weren’t here too. So do it for me.”
Her eyes darting about guiltily, Zonda held her hands to her stomach hiding the key. Stoneheart raised her watch. “Candidates, on my mark. Three, two, one, MARK.”
Zonda sprinted to the post by the wall, inserted the key and tapped in a code. Steam erupted from the wall’s base and it sank into the ground.
“Stop! That’s cheating,” shouted Stoneheart.
Major C rose to his feet and his voice boomed across the hall. “No rules were broken. Continue.” Then after a short pause, he added, “You go, girl.”
Zonda waved a triumphant fist in the air and dived for the monkey bars.
Her run wasn’t elegant but over the weeks Zonda had improved dramatically and she crossed the line in a respectable time. She collapsed to the floor and lay on her back panting.
“I think I’m going to die.”
Sin stood over her. “I knew you could do it.” He held out his hand and hauled her to her feet.
“I was deliberately slowerooney, just so you’d have a chance,” said Zonda, still puffing.
“Thanks. But I doubt Velvet will show me the same courtesy.”
* * *
The wall remained down so that all the candidates would face the same course. Running East Wing versus West Wing, the candidates ran in pairs until only Velvet and Sin remained. They stood on the start line awaiting Stoneheart’s count. Velvet was uncharacteristically quiet. Sin wished she’d goad him or make some outrageous slur but she stared at the course in thoughtful silence.
“So how come you weren’t thrown out of COG?” asked Sin.
Velvet shrugged. “I didn’t actually break any rules. When I met you at the fountain I was acting under the direct orders of a member of staff.”
“Your mother!”
“I guess that’s just the advantage of having a parent on the Committee.”
“Candidates ready,” shouted Stoneheart. “On my mark. Three, two, one, MARK.”
Sin sprinted off the line and leaped onto the monkey bars. He fought through the pain in his shoulder, matching Velvet swing for swing. His blue blood gave him an abundance of energy and the cheers of the East Wingers spurred him onwards, but by the time he reached the balance beams the physicality of the obstacles was taking its toll. He vaulted onto the beam as Velvet dismounted, an obstacle ahead.
Battling the pain, he was determined to make up the ground, however Velvet gave no quarter and as he reached the boxing net she was already halfway through. The steam-powered gloves slammed down, and unlike their previous encounter Velvet ignored them, driving towards the finish.
A leather glove pounded into Sin’s shoulder and he choked back a scream. Frozen in agony, he watched Velvet heave herself from beneath the net and sprint for the line. It was over. He’d fought hard but his injured body just wasn’t up to the task. His fate was sealed.
Inches short from crossing the finish Velvet drew to a halt. Smiling, she sat down and waited.
Sin scrambled out of the net, his heart pounding. Could this really be a last-second reprieve? Clutching his shoulder, his arm hanging limp, he stumbled past Velvet and collapsed across the line. Velvet stood and stepped over the finish in second place.
Sin raised his head. “Thanks.”
Velvet shrugged. “If anyone deserves to be in COG, it’s you. Besides, it’s more fun with you here.”
Sin looked about for Zonda. She stood to attention with the other candidates in front of the stage. Zonda smiled at Velvet and, lifting her hand, smartly saluted. Velvet returned the salute, then hauled Sin to his feet. “Come on, you’ve got to get awarded my trophy.”
“This doesn’t make up for leaving me in the lab,” said Sin.
“Are you sure, because I kind of thought this made us even?”
“Not even close.”
Captain Hawk took centre stage. “And the winner of the Gears of Excellence trophy is COG Sin,” she announced.
Sin felt a burst of joy in his chest. She’d called him COG Sin. Amid the cheers of the other candidates he mounted the stage and received the bronze and brassanium cup.
“I am honoured to be here today,” said Hawk, “not only to see the next generation of COG operatives but also because I have been invited to join the Committee. An invitation that I duly accept.” She walked over to the covered easel. “As is tradition I would like to present COG with a portrait of one of its members. An individual who is the most honourable, brave and determined man I know. I present to you Major Churchill Chubb.” She pulled the sheet away revealing a brightly coloured painting of Major C in all his mekanikal glory.
Sin’s gaze shifted from the picture to Zonda, who clapped enthusiastically. Sin took her arm and pulled her closer. “He’s your …”
“Father, yes. We were trying to keep it a secret but I guess the cogs are out of the clock now.”
Major C smiled, his bushy moustache quivering. “I believe we are going to take some photographs so please mingle and enjoy some rather fine tea and refreshments.”
* * *
Across the assault course the camera flashed, capturing candidates in dramatic poses. Zonda sat with Sin on the now half-raised wall. On Zonda’s lap rested a piece of cake nearly as large as her head. “I’ve soooo missed this.”
Sin puffed out his cheeks. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“You’ve always known I like cake.”
“About your father, cake for brain.”
“Wouldn’t have been a secret then,” said Zonda through a mouthful of cream.
Major C detached himself from a conversation with Lilith and joined them. He grasped Zonda in a hug, his brassanium arm hissing softly. “I’m so proud of you.”
Stepping back, he held out his hand for Sin to shake. “And I believe I have you to thank for helping her.”
Sin patted the wall with his free hand. “I just got her past one obstacle. The rest was all your daughter’s doing, sir.”
The Major lifted Zonda from the wall. “If you’ll excuse us I want Zonda to meet Captain Hawk.” He put an arm around Zonda’s shoulder and guided her away.
Immediately, Nimrod, who had been lurking nearby, filled their place. His fingers twitched nervously at the mekanikal chair’s controls. “I have some things to discuss. Will you walk with me?” he said in hushed tones.
Sin dropped from the wall. “Of course. What is it?”
Nimrod guided his chair away from the celebrations. “Have you heard of Cinderella?”
“Don’t think so.”
“It’s a fairytale where a princess is identified based on the fitting of a glass slipper she left behind at a ball.”
A furrow formed on Sin’s brow. He hadn’t been sure what Nimrod wanted but he’d not expected princesses and fairytales.
Nimrod nodded. “I know, the logic of selecting monarchy based on podiatry is flawed in so many ways, but the point is the prince knew he had the correct person because of what she left behind.” Reaching inside his pocket, Nimrod withdrew Sin’s keeper. “We recovered this from Eldritch. He claimed it was yours but I didn’t believe him so I constructed a machine to find the combination. Last night it succeeded and inside I found my equivalent of Cinderella’s slipper.”
From his pocket Nimrod withdrew the photograph of the Eugenesis Project, except it wasn’t the one Eldritch had possessed. This one had a piece missing from the bottom centre. A piece that Sin had carried for fourteen years.