After breakfast, Gavin changed back into his own clothes, which had dried overnight, and went outside to examine his backpack. He fiddled with the switches and gave the crank a few turns. No response.
“I think it died,” he said. “I was hoping to radio London before we left, but-”
“I can have a look.” Although she could now afford another set, Alice still kept the portable tools from Aunt Edwina in her handbag. She had used them last night to disassemble Norbert’s machines and throw the incriminating parts into the river.
The backpack came apart in short order, and Alice peered inside with delight. It was refreshing to examine something that wasn’t designed for. . that had another purpose than the one she had become accustomed to. Almost instantly she saw the trouble. Water had shorted out several connections and circuits.
“How can you repair that?” Gavin said.
“Easily, Mr. Enn-Gavin.” She gestured at the mechanical. “Mr. Barton stole a large number of spare parts. Why don’t you check on Tree while I handle this?”
Tree, it turned out, had almost entirely recovered overnight. Gavin was even able to refasten the brass pieces that Barton’s barrage had knocked loose yesterday.
Alice, meanwhile, finished her own repairs and switched the backpack’s wireless on. Feedback whined and screeched.
“You did it!” Gavin said. “You’re fantastic!”
“Thank you,” Alice replied, glowing at the praise even as she realized she shouldn’t. “Can you raise London?”
Gavin tried, and got nothing but static. “We’re out of range. We can try again when we get closer.”
“Speaking of which,” Alice put in, “how are we going to handle the travel and explanations?”
Gavin looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“Gavin,” she said gently, “as a traditional woman, I can drive about London with a man who isn’t my husband or father as long as we’re in public. But I can’t go away overnight with him. Even an Ad Hoc lady couldn’t do that. I’m not even coming back in my own clothes.”
“Oh. Right. It’s always something stupid.” He scratched his cheek, which was growing raspy. “Look, I don’t think anyone saw you leave London with me. Tree scared away the crowd outside the shop, and you can’t really see who’s riding him. And if we give you Barton’s hat for the ride back, you’ll look like a boy. If anyone
“Why am
“You’re the traditional lady.”
Alice let that pass. “And what do we tell my fiance?
“Tell him whatever you want. If you trust him,” Gavin said, his tone carefully neutral, “tell the truth. If you don’t, give him the lie. Simon and Lieutenant Phipps will back you up.”
Alice thought about that. On the one hand, she had rushed off only to ensure Norbert’s filthy machines remained a secret, so he had little right to be angry. On the other hand, she had spent the night in a tower with another man, begged him to sing for her, and more or less handed him a rose, which would give any fiance the right to be upset. Perhaps there was a third option-if no one but Gavin and the Third Ward knew the truth, Alice could give Norbert an edited version of what had happened, a version that left Gavin out of it. She had tracked Barton to his lair, cracked him over the head, disguised herself with his clothes, and brought him back to the authorities in his own mechanical. That might work.
Spinning lies and donning disguises felt suddenly stupid and frustrating. Gavin was a good friend, and nothing more, but the rules of traditional society made it clear that men and women could only be lovers, especially if they went away overnight together. For a moment, she considered casting it all aside. So what if someone recognized her and gossiped? What was the worst that could happen?
Norbert might become angry. Some of the people he did business with might lose respect for him and take their business elsewhere. Her children, when she had them, could end up with the social stigma of an unfaithful mother. A heavy sigh escaped her.
“I think your solution will do,” she said. “I’ll drive the mechanical. You take Barton in Tree, though we’ll have to find his hat first.”
The trip back to London went quickly, and Alice thoroughly enjoyed driving the mechanical. The metal shell gave her a sense of height, strength, and power quite new to her. Earth thudded beneath the mechanical’s feet, and the landscape sped by or slowed at her command. She had become a giant, a great warrior from mythology. The damp English air rushed over her, teased at her hair, pulled at her clothes. The feeling of speed and freedom exhilarated her in ways she had never thought possible. No one could stop her or stand in her way. Beside her, Gavin was just visible through Tree’s branches with Barton chained nearby, and Alice couldn’t decide which was stranger-driving a great mechanical beast or walking beside an ambulatory tree.
“Race?” she called.
“First one to the crossroads wins!” Gavin yelled, and Tree said, “WINDY.” They thundered up a hill and down the other side, frightening a herd of cattle on the other side of a hedgerow. Alice shouted like a little girl and ran. She was one with the mechanical now. Its legs were her legs; its arms her arms. Power thrummed through her, and she ran and ran and ran. Beside her, Tree rustled and thumped, scattering leaves and bits of bark. Gavin lost his hat. They reached the crossroads at exactly the same moment and came to a stop.
“A tie!” Alice shouted. “Well-done!”
“It was!” Gavin called back. Then he jumped and abruptly twisted in his seat so he could turn the crank on the backpack. The backpack squealed, spat static, and spoke, though Alice couldn’t make out the words.
“What is it?” she asked.
“That was Lieutenant Phipps. Simon and Glenda weren’t able to capture the clockworker they went after yesterday.”
Alice started. She had forgotten all about the grinning clockworker’s reappearance. “And?”
“He vanished, but now he’s resurfaced with more plague zombies in the City. We might be able to catch up with him if we cut over to City Road. We’ll pass right by St. Luke’s Hospital and into the center of London.”
“Isn’t the Third Ward already there?”
“Two bombs exploded not far from headquarters. No one was hurt, but they dropped rubble across streets and clogged traffic in a dozen directions. And the dirigibles are out of the country. Our people can’t get to the location. The clockwork must have planned it that way.”
“What is he doing?”
Gavin said, “He’s trying to storm the Bank of England.”
They left the little road, stepping over hedges and ancient stone walls. The earlier exhilaration that came with the speed left Alice, replaced with a grim urgency. Not only had the grinning clockworker returned; he was endangering lives. By forcing a group of plague zombies into a crowded, daylight street, he was potentially infecting dozens, even hundreds of people with the clockwork plague. Every thought of propriety left Alice’s head. She didn’t care what happened to her or her reputation-no other families would suffer from the clockwork plague as hers had; not if she could stop it.
They reached the wider, cobblestoned City Road. Horse, carriage, and foot traffic moved along its length, but they wove around or through it all, leaving startled horses in their wake. Drovers shouted and shook their fists, but Alice didn’t respond. When they reached London proper, the City Road became brick, and Alice heard the screams. Gavin did, too, and they steered their respective mounts toward the sound. City Road became Moorgate and Prince’s Street, with their staid, respectable buildings. Alice and Gavin angled east, and chaos greeted them. People milled everywhere. Half of them were trying to get away, and half were trying to get a better view of the happenings. Panicky horses pulled carriages and wagons into a hopeless snarl. Glass from shattered windows crunched under hundreds of feet, and a broken gaslight had erupted into yellow flame. Over it all, Alice heard eerie music. Memories from a year ago sent a chill down her spine. For a moment, she was wearing The Dress and facing a horde of zombies at three in the morning.
People scattered when they saw Tree and the mechanical, though it was still tricky to maneuver around the snarled vehicles. Ahead of them, Prince’s Street met Threadneedle and four others at odd angles to make an
