Rebel Mechanics (10 page)

I finally regained enough equilibrium to distinguish individual elements. The cavernous space looked like it was an old theater. The light came from great glass globes hanging from wires draped across the ceiling. Red banners with large gears sewn on them hung among the globes. It wasn't a brass band I heard, but rather a small band playing lively dance music on a stage near where I stood. There were the usual fiddler and drummer, but there was another sound layered beneath that, a jaunty tone that sounded like a particularly breathy and brassy church organ. The sound came from a set of pipes on a cart next to the stage. I'd seen a steam calliope in a circus parade, but never thought one would be used as part of a dance band.

Most of the guests wore the Mechanics' unorthodox mix of attire. Their colorful clothing was garish in the bright lights. In the center of the room, couples spun wildly in time to the unusual music. Around the perimeter, groups of men and women tinkered with or showed off their inventions. Tables laden with food, punch bowls, and ale kegs lined a nearby wall. An odd contraption made up of tubes, clockwork gears, and strangely shaped bits of glass spewed vapor and flame and made loud clattering noises.

While I was still assessing the situation, someone rushed at me, grabbed me around the waist, and lifted me off my feet. “Verity, my lass! I thought we'd lost you in the tunnels!”

“Put her down, Colin,” Lizzie scolded, and I was most grateful when my feet returned to the floor.

“You look positively parched,” he said to me. “Lucky for you, I know just the thing for that ailment.” He took my hand and led me toward the strange device. “The lady will have one, if you please,” he told the man operating it.

The man, who wore a physician's white smock and a pair of laboratory safety goggles, said, “The lady will have to try her luck.” He handed me a small brass gear and pointed to a metal dish on the end of the contraption. “Get this in there and you get yourself a drink.”

Colin leaned over my shoulder. “Go on, Verity, you can do it.”

“Didn't I see a punch bowl?” I asked.

The white-smocked man puffed out his chest and went red in the face. “You'd rather have punch than my fantabulous elixir?”

“It's not a case of preferences, sir,” I hurried to say. “I merely doubt my ability to earn it.”

He raised his goggles and winked. “I might be persuaded to give you a second try if you miss on the first one.” He licked his lips to indicate how I would have to persuade him.

No drink was worth that, I decided, so I had better make the first shot count. As I tossed the gear, I mentally nudged the ether to surround the gear and guide it into the metal dish, the way I used to move buttons into a jar. “The lady has earned herself a drink!” Colin shouted, thumping me on the back.

When the gear hit the dish, it set the whole device in motion. Other gears turned, and an amber liquid flowed through the glass tubes. Flames shot up from a string of nozzles surrounding the tubes. The amber liquid poured into a jar, where another ingredient dropped in, then the jar shook before tipping over to spill into a funnel that led into another set of tubes that passed through more flames. Finally, the liquid poured down a chute and into a battered tin cup, which the man in the white smock handed to me with a flourish. “Your beverage, miss.” It seemed an unnecessarily complicated way to dispense libations, but I supposed it was in keeping with the spirit of the occasion.

One sip of the drink sent a blast of heat throughout my body. At first, I thought it was because the liquid was so hot, but after I'd drunk nearly the entire cup, I realized that some of the warming sensation came from a generous portion of alcohol.

“Thank you for bringing your sister a drink,” Lizzie said acidly to Colin, one eyebrow arched, when we rejoined her.

“You know the rules, Liz. You have to make the shot for yourself. But if you need me to escort you over there, I would be happy to oblige.”

A young woman in a shockingly short skirt that showed the tops of her calf-high boots skipped over and grabbed Colin's arm. He shrugged helplessly as she dragged him away before Lizzie could retort. “He really is hopeless,” Lizzie said with a shake of her head. “Come on, you should meet everyone.”

She led me around the room, making introductions. She still didn't tell me anyone's name, but the people were warm and friendly. Most of Lizzie's friends had brought friends who didn't seem to be members of the group, and they came from all walks of life. Some were factory girls, others worked in government offices, and some were laundresses or seamstresses. Most were Irish, some were Chinese, some appeared to be of African ancestry, and a few were German. The one thing we all had in common was that we worked for magisters. Then again, it seemed as though everyone in the city worked for magisters, either directly or indirectly.

While I met everyone, I couldn't help but glance around looking for Alec. Surely he wouldn't miss the party, or was he away inventing some new machine?

Colin came off the dance floor, red-faced and sweating. “What, you're not letting her dance, Liz?” he asked. “Come on, Verity, let's have some fun.” The drink had gone to my head, making me feel fuzzy and fizzy, so I went eagerly with him, letting him spin me around to the beat of that strange music. I could barely keep up with him. Tickles on my cheeks and forehead told me my hair was coming loose, and I felt sweat running down the middle of my back, under my corset. Even so, I was having more fun than I could recall in years—or possibly ever.

Colin suddenly jerked and yelped. His style wasn't conventional, but I didn't mistake this for a dance step. He reached up and pulled something out of the air, then quickly released it after yelping again. It was a small model of an airship, with steam and smoke pouring from beneath it. Muttering under his breath, Colin batted it ahead of him as he stalked toward the edge of the room. I hurried to keep up with him.

“And what, pray tell, is this supposed to be, Everett?” he asked an ebony-skinned man in a red tailcoat. “An airship that hits people in the head is no airship at all.”

“I can't help it if you're a bloody giant, Col,” Everett said. Then he sighed deeply. “It's the steam engine. Even in miniature, it's too heavy to get enough lift. I've already got a ship, but I don't have a power supply. Magic may be the only reasonable way to power an airship.”

“What about electricity?” Colin asked. “Tom's created a storage battery, and it's not too heavy.”

“Would it hold enough power to get us anywhere?”

“Talk to Tom. Maybe there's something he can do. But in the meantime, watch where you fly these things. That's gonna bruise, and I can't afford to mar my good looks.” With that, he twirled me back onto the dance floor.

The next dance was just as energetic, and before it was over, I was gasping for breath. Colin guided me over to a refreshment table and handed me a cup of punch. This drink was cold, with chips of ice in it, and I downed the whole cup in a couple of swallows while Colin spoke to some of the men. Only when it was gone did I gasp as the harsh bite of the alcohol hit me. This was more than I was accustomed to, but as long as I didn't return home inebriated, there was no one to tell me I wasn't allowed to consume alcohol.

I was just about to suggest we return to the dance floor when I heard someone call my name and turned to see Alec approaching. He had his coat off and his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. A pair of goggles with an array of fold-down magnifying lenses was shoved back on his forehead. There was a smear of soot across one cheekbone. Even disheveled as he was, I found him more appealing than in all the daydreams I'd had after our earlier meeting. Although I'd planned to act casual when seeing him, the punch had gone to my head, and I rushed toward him, smiling broadly. “I was wondering where you were,” I said, louder than I intended.

“I've been working on the lights,” he said, gesturing to the glowing globes above. “They're powered by a steam dynamo. It's been fussy tonight. She must feel like she's missing the party while she's stuck down in the basement.”

I tilted my head back to look at the lights and would have toppled over if Alec hadn't caught me. I knew I should have stepped away as soon as he steadied me, but I didn't really want to, so I stayed securely in the crook of his arm. “They're much better than gaslight.”

“We think so. Someday they could replace gaslight for those who can't get magical lights. That is, if the magisters will allow a power other than magic.” He looked at me with a smile that made me glad he was holding me upright. “But you came here for a party, not a political lecture. Would you care to dance?”

“I'd love to,” I said. I'd caught my breath from my earlier exertions, but I was still greatly relieved when the band played a stately waltz. I'd waltzed with men before, but this was different. He held me closer than had been proper at New Haven tea dances, but the real difference was my memories of him whisking me out of the way of certain death and how my heart had raced then while I was in his arms. It raced again now.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

I glanced up to see him looking down at me. Did my thoughts of him show on my face? I stiffened in his arms, suddenly self-conscious. “Yes, I'm having a very good time.”

“I'm glad you came,” he said with a smile. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn't.”

His attention flustered me. I had all sorts of clever things planned to say, but my tongue had become so thick and heavy that I couldn't move it. Just when I opened my mouth to say something witty and flirtatious, the music abruptly stopped and the room went silent. Every head in the room turned, and I followed their gaze. A woman dressed all in black, with a veil hanging in front of her face nearly to her waist, stood at the front of the room. The crowd parted for her as she moved toward the demonstrations.

Gradually, the noise level rose from dead silence to a low murmur as conversation resumed. “Who is she?” I whispered to Alec. “Wasn't she on the bus?”

“She's our patroness. She's come to select the project she'll fund. My steam engine won last year, which was why she was on board for the race.” He took my hand. “Come on, I want to see how she reacts.”

Lizzie intercepted us. “I was wondering if you could help me,” she said to me after a glance at Alec.

“How?” I asked.

“I'm covering this event for the newspaper, and I need another set of eyes to make sure I don't miss anything. You mentioned that journalism sounded exciting. Are you interested?”

“I don't know anything about being a reporter.”

“Just write about what you see. You've read a newspaper, so you know how it goes. I could submit it for you. We'd have to come up with a pen name for you, of course. I wouldn't want to jeopardize your current position.”

I imagined myself as an intrepid reporter and liked the image. I knew I didn't intend to be a governess the rest of my life. “I can try,” I said.

“Here, you'll need this,” she said, pinning the Mechanics' gear-and-ribbon insignia onto my bodice. “Don't worry, this doesn't make you a member, but it will make people more willing to talk to you.” Then she handed me a notebook and pencil.

Alec and I followed the woman in black as she moved from exhibit to exhibit, watching silently as the inventors showed off their creations and explained the benefits while I frantically scribbled notes. “She's polished brass, that one is,” Everett said with an admiring smile after the woman moved on from his airship demonstration.

Once she'd circled the room, she conferred with a tall man in a top hat, who stepped over to a device that looked like a giant trumpet and spoke into it. His voice echoed throughout the vast hall as he said, “The winner is Everett, who will receive a grant to help him finish devising a nonmagical means to power an airship.” The crowd cheered, and the Mechanics slapped Everett on the back as the band resumed playing.

“Care for another dance?” Alec asked. I shifted the notebook into my left hand and rested it on his shoulder as he swept me onto the floor. We'd barely made a circuit when the music stopped again. The dancers grumbled, but then there was a shout from above.

Everyone looked up to the old theater's balcony to see a man waving a long streamer of paper. “They're searching the area again! Everyone out!”

Chaos ensued as people ran left and right, gathering machines and running with them toward the exits. Others pulled banners off the balcony railing. I saw the rest of the newcomers being herded back to the basement, the way we'd come in, and I started to follow them, but Alec grabbed my hand and hustled me to a doorway beside the stage. “I know another way out,” he explained.

Down in the basement, where a steam engine that looked like it had been built from the building's furnace chugged away, Alec shut and barred the door before pulling the goggles off his forehead and donning a coat that hung on the back of a chair. “This is our dynamo that powers the lights,” he explained as he moved a ladder beneath an open window. “I hope they don't seize it. I'll go up first to make sure it's safe, then you climb up after me.”

He clambered up the ladder and out through the ground-level window. A moment later he gestured to me. I gathered my skirts and climbed as quickly as I could. When I reached the top, Alec pulled me through the window and lifted me to my feet.

We were in what must have been an alley behind the theater. Alec pulled a large handkerchief out of his pocket and said, “I'm sorry, but you aren't yet a member.”

I realized he was going to blindfold me. I didn't feel I had the option to protest, so I let him wrap the handkerchief around my eyes and tie it. He guided me down the alley, his arm around my waist. We made two or three turns, and soon I heard street noise. He stopped and untied my blindfold, then unpinned his Mechanics' insignia and put it in his pocket with the handkerchief. Following his lead, I removed the insignia Lizzie had given me, putting it in my pocket. I tucked the notebook under my arm as Alec peered out of the alley. He nodded, offered me his arm, and we stepped onto the sidewalk, blending in with the Saturday night crowds. “Try not to look nervous,” he whispered. “You're merely out for the evening. There's no reason to worry that anyone's following you.” I nodded stiffly and forced myself to look ahead instead of darting glances over my shoulder. The blindfold had been entirely unnecessary, as I had no idea where I was even with it removed.