The Doomsday Vault

before he’d gone under, and his lungs were already crying for air. He could see the surface that cruelly was less than two feet above him. Panic tightened his muscles, and he tried to force himself to work methodically at the buckles, but the water made the leather treacherous and difficult. Black spots swam in his vision. His lungs begged for a spoonful of air.

He felt a sharp tug, and the straps fell away. An arm hauled at him, and, with his last strength, he kicked free of the chair and pack. A second later he broke the surface and inhaled sweet, clear air. His feet stood on the river bottom, and Alice stood next to him, brandishing a knife. Tree lay beside them, half-submerged and unmoving.

“Are you all right?” Alice asked. Water streamed from her long brown hair, and her face, shining with beauty and concern, was less than a foot from his. He became aware that her other arm was around his body. Rose petals floated all around them.

“I think so,” he panted. His jacket, soaked through, pulled heavily at him, and his cap had vanished. “Where did you get a knife?”

“I never go anywhere without the tools my aunt gave me.”

Another boulder exploded into the water only a few feet away, and they dived away from it, making for the shore. Standing near the ruined tower was Patrick Barton’s mechanical, a little worse for wear, but evidently still functional. He was already reaching for another boulder.

Alice glanced over her shoulder at the river. “He hurt Tree. The. . the cad! The puppy!”

“We should get under cover until we can figure out what to do,” Gavin said.

“I know what to do, Mr. Ennock,” she said, and stormed straight toward Barton over a path of ruined roses. She had lost her hat, and water poured from her dress in a river of its own. Gavin irrationally thought of the stories of King Arthur and the Lady of the Lake. Then he realized what she was doing and dashed forward.

“Miss Michaels! Alice! What-” The boulder smacked into the ground just ahead of him. Heart pounding, Gavin dodged behind a rock pile and peered over the top. Alice was still walking straight toward Barton in his mechanical. The mechanical picked up yet another rock and hefted it like a boy ready to bring down a bird with a broken wing. Alice, her wet dress clinging to her body, stopped a few paces in front of him. Rose petals from the river dotted her hair.

“Mr. Barton!” Alice shouted. “Your Boadicea has arrived. May I blow you a kiss?”

She’s gone completely crazy, Gavin thought. She’s gone crazy and he’s going to kill her.

But Barton paused. From inside the glass bubble, he peered down at her, and Gavin thought he saw a grin slide across his face.

“My queen!” he said. “Why are you wet?”

“I have crossed the wide ocean to be with you, my king,” Alice said. “And now that we’re together, nothing will stop us from ruling the world!”

Gavin stared. What the hell?

“Open your bubble and receive my blessing, O my king,” she continued. “Prove your love to me!”

“You’re trying to trick me,” Barton said. “You’re a queen of spades.” He raised the boulder again, and Gavin’s heart lurched.

“You refuse your queen?” Alice’s voice rose to a shriek. “Then watch my blood spill across the ground, for I cannot live without you!” She raised the knife and held it over her breast. Gavin gathered himself to lunge for her.

“Wait!” Barton set the boulder aside. “I love you, my queen. I can’t bear to see you in pain.” The bubble hissed and slid back, though Barton made no move to come down. “Climb up and receive my love.”

“With pleasure, my king.” From her sleeve Alice pulled a pair of tuning forks and brandished them like a pair of swords. Gavin slapped his own jacket pockets and discovered them empty. As the startled Barton watched, Alice clanged the forks together. From Gavin’s vantage point, the tritone was thin and weak, but Barton was only a few feet away from it. He clapped his hands over his ears and howled. The tone died down, but Alice struck the forks again to keep it going. Gavin didn’t wait. He burst out of hiding and swarmed up the mechanical to the seat where Barton screamed. One practiced punch put the man out. Gavin shook his stinging fist and looked down at Alice.

“Boadicea?”

“I’ll explain later.” Alice sighed. “We should check on Tree.”

Tree, it turned out, was already struggling to an upright position in the river. Water rushed from his branches and bedraggled foliage, and a chunk of the brass vines had been torn away.

“SLEEP,” he said, and went still.

Gavin sloshed into the water and climbed into the branches, where he retrieved the machine pack. Alice had slashed the straps with her knife, and water had shorted out all the machinery. Still, he sloshed back ashore with it.

“Wireless is dead,” he said. “No way to contact London for a pickup. We’ll have to make camp here tonight.”

“What about Mr. Barton?” Alice gestured at the man in question, who now lay sprawled on the ground near his mechanical.

Gavin produced a small bottle from a drawer on the pack. “Laudanum. It’ll keep him quiet until we can get back. Let’s check the tower and see if it’s livable for the night.”

The first floor of the tower contained a single room with a stove and a small bed. The upper floor, destroyed in the explosion, had apparently been the laboratory. “At least he didn’t set traps and machines down here,” Gavin said. “I’m too tired to hunt them down. Let’s get Barton in here before he wakes up.”

“Oh!” Alice put a hand to her mouth. “In all the excitement-how could I have forgotten?”

She rushed outside. Gavin hurried after her. The late-evening air was damp and chilly, and night birds called. Tree formed a tall shadow at the edge of the river. Already Alice was climbing into the mechanical.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Miss Michaels!”

She dropped into the seat, her wet skirts sticking to her legs, and examined the machinery in the rapidly fading light. “Nothing’s labeled,” she muttered. “So how does it work?”

She pulled a lever, and the mechanical’s right arms swung down and around. Gavin ducked beneath it just in time. “Oh dear! Sorry, Mr. Ennock!”

“What in-?”

“If that’s right, then this one is left.” The mechanical’s left arm swung, but this time nowhere near Gavin. “And these are the feet.” The mechanical stomped in place. “This must be the bubb-” The glass dome snapped shut. Gavin retreated to a safe distance, watching Alice fiddle with the switches and levers inside the mechanical, until at last the front popped open and machine parts spilled out onto the grass. Of course! The machines Alice had been so hot to find. The bubble opened and Alice scrambled down to the ground, where she sorted frantically through the materials until she came up with three hatbox-sized automatons. These she stacked like firewood and struggled to pick up.

“Let me help with that,” Gavin volunteered.

“I’ll do it, Mr. Ennock,” she snapped. “Please leave them alone.”

He stepped back and let her haul them into the tower. She set them on the stone floor while he built a fire in the stove. His wet clothes were starting to chill him, and it would only get worse as the night wore on.

“Check that wardrobe over there, would you?” Gavin asked as he tried to coax larger flames. “See if Barton has any spare clothes.”

Barton did. Though a little large for Gavin, they would do for the moment. Alice obligingly turned her back while Gavin scrambled out of his wet things and into some of Barton’s dry ones. In the process, he found the silver nightingale still in his pocket, and he hoped it hadn’t been damaged. The dry clothes felt immensely better, in any case, though he was forced to remain barefoot. He held out a set of trousers and a shirt to Alice.

“You should put these on,” he said. “They aren’t women’s things, but you’ll catch your death in those wet skirts.”

“I couldn’t,” Alice said.

“You have to. I don’t want you catching a chill or pneumonia.”