The Doomsday Vault (43 page)

“That's not an explanation about me.” Gavin's face was hard with a hatred Alice had never seen before, and it chilled her.

“I'm trying to stay chronological, Mr. Ennock, as Alice requested. We're arriving at you.” She shut off the hissing burner and added a sugar lump to her tea. “I needed a way to get my cure back from the Third Ward. But Ward headquarters are tightly guarded, and the Ward knows how plague geniuses think. My only hope of getting at it was to draw out my dear niece, Alice.”

“Draw me out?” Alice came upright again. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“You were so timid after the clockwork plague struck the family down, darling.” Edwina got up to pace, and Gavin tensed. “No, that's not the right word. I think the Americans call it
hidebound.
You wouldn't budge outside the safety of traditional society. All that talent gone to waste. My dear, stubborn brother wouldn't let me see you because he thought—quite rightly—that I'd try to corrupt you into Ad Hoc society, but he decided a few presents couldn't hurt, and he let my little automatons through. I had already been working on you for your own good, hoping those little machines would stimulate you enough that you would start to chafe and finally break free of your father. I didn't send you help of the monetary sort because then you would have had no
need
to break free. My hope was to starve you into the open. By sheer luck, the groundwork for furthering my plan was already there. I just needed to act on it.”

“What does this have to do with kidnapping me?” Gavin demanded. He had gotten to his feet as well, tense as a lion.

“Patience, Mr. Ennock. You waited in my tower for weeks. You can wait a few minutes more. The problem was, you stayed stubbornly with your father, Alice, and refused to try anything on your own. So I involved myself more directly.”

“You disguised yourself and became my friend and mentor,” Alice said dully.

“Exactly! What better way for me to mold your thinking than to become your best friend? After I met you, I took Patrick Barton home with me from the Greenfellow ball and drugged him senseless so I could—”

“You drugged Patrick Barton?” Alice interrupted. “What for?”

“I had to. I did tell you I would leave the ball with him.”

“Oh my God,” Gavin whispered. He sank back to his perch on the table, and his revolver shook. “You infected him with the clockwork plague. That was why he showed no signs of the disease before the ball, and that was why he became a clockworker so quickly afterward.”

“I injected him with my own accelerated recipe, yes. Mr. Barton did everything I'd hoped.”

“And that was?” Alice asked, feeling more than a little sick. For a moment, she had been lulled into seeing Aunt Edwina as merely odd, someone who dressed up in strange clothes and played an elaborate prank. But the incident with poor Patrick Barton slapped her back into sensibility. Aunt Edwina was completely mad.

“I'm getting ahead of myself.” Edwina sipped at her cup, realized it was empty, and tossed it over her shoulder. It shattered on the stone floor behind her. “After the ball, I arranged that little plague victim riot so you would get some exposure to the Third Ward, Alice. I didn't have high hopes that you would come out of your shell right then, so I continued with my plan—until that idiot Norbert Williamson whisked you away into betrothal, anyway. I tried to talk you out of it, but I was handicapped by having to be subtle. It was infuriating. So I had to bring in Mr. Ennock.”

“I don't follow this.” Gavin was clearly expending a lot of energy holding on to his temper, and Alice was afraid he was going to leap across the table. “Tell me why you kidnapped me and held me. Why you killed those airmen just to grab me again.”

Edwina nibbled a cake. “Frankly, you enchanted me, Mr. Ennock. Your fiddle and your voice and your natural charm—irresistible! In addition, you're young and strong and have no children. Perfect material for the Third Ward, if only they noticed you. I suspected Alice would find you as attractive as I do, and I was fortunate to learn that she took all those rides in Hyde Park. I dressed in red velvet so you would notice me, and I paid you plenty to ensure you would play there often. And when the time was right, I hired a pair of men with a rope and a sack. Then it was just a matter of time before Alice rescued you.”

Alice's mouth fell open. “You locked Gavin in that tower because you wanted to
introduce
us?”

“Well, obviously! Good God, girl, I practically threw the two of you together!”

“I don't believe it,” Alice said faintly. “It all comes down to a maiden aunt who plays matchmaker—clockwork style.”

“Why did you leave the traps running?” Gavin said. “They almost killed us.”

Edwina stared at him. “I couldn't deactivate the traps. The wrong person might get in.”

“Indisputable logic,” Alice muttered.

“Mr. Ennock is worth a few traps, don't you think? He's much better looking and far more talented than dull, drab Norbie.”

Anger thundered through Alice. “How
dare
you manipulate us this way.”

“I see.” Edwina looked genuinely hurt. “Your father arranges a marriage that makes you unhappy, and that's all right, but I match you with someone you actually love, and that's wrong?”

Alice felt ready to explode, and Gavin's gentle hand landed on her shoulder. “It's all right,” he soothed. “You don't want to throw the teapot. Let's hear the rest.”

Was she holding the teapot? She was. Alice set it down with careful control.

“Thank you,” Edwina said. “At any rate, you rescued Mr. Ennock but refused to contact the Ward, so I talked to you as Louisa and ‘accidentally' found the card with the agent's name on it. And then there was the incident with the paper bomb outside the solicitor's office. I was hoping you'd notify the Ward then, too. It was a relief when you and Mr. Ennock went off in that dirigible, and I was very upset when you agreed to marry little Norbie anyway and moved Arthur into his house. I had to come up with a whole new plan to break you free. Once young Mr. Barton was ready, I distracted the rest of the Ward and turned him loose so it would be just the two of you going after him. So romantic!”

“How could you possibly have known you'd need Patrick Barton?” Alice said, surprised at how level her voice was. She felt more and more as if she were attending a tea party in a lunatic asylum. “It was a year between the time you met him at the ball and the time he attacked the smithy.”

“Well, I wasn't
sure
I'd need him. I was only planning ahead, just in case. It takes time for the plague to develop, especially for someone who's going to become a genius, and I was sure my new version of it would develop Mr. Barton into one.”

“What if I had joined the Ward right away?” Alice said.

“Then Mr. Barton would have had a wonderful time inventing any number of things before the plague took him off. Really, darling, I don't know why you're so upset. You didn't even know him. And he wasn't very good in the bedroom. Though now that I think of it, that may have been the drugs.”

“Your version of the plague burns clockworkers out even faster than normal,” Gavin said. His voice was tight. “I watched him die. It was horrible.”

“I was afraid of that. Fortunately, he served his purpose first. You two did become closer. But then my automaton spies gave me the news that Alice was planning to elope, so I had to act fast. I'm sorry the plan was so crude—short notice and all. Still, your adventure with the war machine
did
make it clear how much you need Mr. Ennock, Alice. My dear brother's death was a minor complication, but in the end you made the right decision. If it makes you feel any better, darling, you're going to get notice tomorrow that all your debts have been paid off by an anonymous benefactor. You don't owe Norbert a thing.”

Oddly—or perhaps understandably—the news didn't make Alice didn't feel any better. “Edwina,” she said in a dangerous voice, “I need you to tell us what the point is. Why did you want Gavin and me to . . . to fall in love and join the Ward?”

She held up a finger. “You haven't asked why I attacked the Bank of England.”

“You needed money?” Gavin said.

Edwina laughed like a society woman who had heard a small joke. “I have pots of money, Mr. Ennock.”

“Then why did you do it?” Alice sighed.

“Partly to bring you two lovebirds closer together, and partly so I could play those notes for you, the ones that gave you the map coordinates for this little den of mine. I knew you and your perfect pitch would eventually figure it out, Mr. Ennock.”

“Alice figured it out,” Gavin told her coldly. “I just gave her the frequency numbers.”

Edwina waved this away. “It still worked. You're here.”

“Aunt Edwina, I'm quite confused. Why did you lead us here?”

She stared at Alice. “So we could have this little chat, of course.”

“We have a wonderful telegraph system,” Alice nearly shouted. “And the Royal Mail. You didn't need to attack the National Bank to get our attention.”

“Paper communiqués can be intercepted. Your sharp mind and Mr. Ennock's perfect pitch gave me the means to send the perfect coded message. It was the only way to be safe.”

“Safe?” Alice echoed. “Attacking the bank with an army of zombies was
safe
? Blowing up a dirigible and killing dozens of men was
safe
?”

“Safer than sending a letter or telegram.” Edwina finished her cake.

“You sent
me
a telegram,” Gavin pointed out.

“That was from Louisa, not me. And I signed it ‘L.' Could have been anyone.”

Gavin groaned.

“Getting back to the cure,” Alice said. “What do Gavin and I have to do with it?”

“The cure. Yes.” Edwina leaned forward. A red light, one among many, flashed on the wall not far from Edwina's chair. It went out, and another one flashed. “We don't have much time. The first cure I discovered was only partially effective. I had . . .
manufactured
another microorganism that attacks the clockwork plague bacterium. It's smaller than bacteria and structured quite differently. I suspect similar agents already exist in nature. I call it a ‘virion.' Do you like the term? I think it might catch on.”

“I thought we didn't have much time,” Gavin said.

“Right, right. My first virion, the one the Ward stole, is very delicate and can only survive inside a living host. It must be injected directly into the bloodstream. Very disappointing, if one wants the cure to spread throughout the world. I put it in my safe, and then the Ward chased me away and stole it. I had to start again down here.”

“Did you do it?” Alice leaned across the table. “Did you succeed this time?”

“Of course.” Edwina dabbed at her cheek with a napkin. The lights were all flashing red now. “The second virion is much hardier. Once a person is infected with this second virion, he becomes a carrier, and his saliva and mucus will spread it to other people, who become carriers in their own right. Once released, it will spread throughout the world and destroy the plague entirely. The only problem”—and here she sighed—“is that it doesn't cure plague geniuses. Their bodies change the plague somehow and make it immune to the cure. I tried an early version on poor Mr. Barton and a few others I've come across, and it didn't help any of them.”

“But even so!” Alice breathed. “Edwina! We have to release it right now!”

Edwina held up a hand. “It's not that simple, darling. I can't finish incubating the second virion down here, with these limited facilities. It's going to take some—”

“Wait,” Gavin interrupted. “You're lying.”

“Oh?” Edwina's tone was light, but with an edge.

“You said the Third Ward stole your first cure months ago,” Gavin said. “So why haven't they—we—used it?”

“Ah.” Edwina steepled her fingers and stole a glance at the lights. They all went out. “I'm afraid I won't be able to explain that quite yet. You need to play má què with the Queen.”

“I—what?” Gavin said.

“Play má què with the Queen. Play má què with the Queen.”

“What are you talking about?” Gavin demanded. “What's—?”

The main door burst open, and a dozen agents flooded the room.

I
n an instant, Edwina was surrounded by pistols, rifles, and other weapons Gavin hadn't yet learned to identify. Gavin himself stared down the barrel of a very strange gun with copper wiring that twisted all along it. He smelled ozone, and his heart beat at the back of his throat. Then he saw who was wielding it.

“Damn it, Simon,” he snapped, “it's me.”

“Play má què with the Queen,” Edwina said.

Simon d'Arco didn't move, and for a moment Gavin wondered if the man intended to shoot him. His thoughts flashed back to the moment at the symphony a few hours ago. Gavin hadn't had any time to think about what had happened or what any of it had meant, but now he wondered if Simon was angry. Then Simon lowered the weapon.

“Jesus, Gavin,” he said. “I nearly blasted you to Sussex. Are you drinking
tea
?”

“I would prefer,” Alice said in a small voice, “if you didn't point that at me.”

“Alice?” Glenda holstered her weapon. “Good God, you look a fright. Are you all right? When did you start wearing trousers?”

There was a clatter of shackles as a set was closed over Edwina's wrists. She did not protest or struggle. A look of sadness came over Alice's face. Gavin wanted to hold her tight and let her head rest on his shoulder, let her cry if she needed to. He also knew she would be angry if he touched her in front of all these people. In the end, both of them just stood and watched Edwina be led toward the door in her long brown coat. One of the agents put the battered top hat on her head.