The Doomsday Vault

“Where?” the man repeated.

“It was a present from a friend. Give it back, or I will hit you. Very hard.”

The servant dropped it into Gavin’s palm and bowed twice. “You come with me, please. Please, you come now.” Abandoning the cart, he opened the hotel room door and ushered them inside.

Alice was half expecting the rooms to be decorated in Oriental fashion, with carved dragons and Oriental wall hangings, and silk everywhere. Instead, she found a set of lavish hotel rooms, with generous furniture, thick carpets, large windows, and a marble fireplace. A middle-aged man sat in an armchair with his back to the door, a book in his lap. The servant scurried over to him and bowed, leaving his head down until the man acknowledged his presence with a word. They exchanged several sentences in Chinese before the servant returned.

“His Honor see you now.” He brought Alice and Gavin over to the sitting area, and the man rose to his feet. He wore a long, gold-bordered scarlet robe, which was embroidered with dozens of designs. A wide, round cloth hat covered his head, even though he was indoors, and his angular face was clean-shaven. Alice floundered. Should she bow? Offer her hand? Her schooling in etiquette had covered what to do when meeting everything from a priest to a baronet to the Queen herself, but not a dignitary from the Chinese Empire. Gavin looked equally perplexed.

The ambassador solved the problem for them by offering his hand first to Alice and then to Gavin. “I am Jun Lung, nephew of the Guanxu Emperor and ambassador to England.”

“Alice, Baroness Michaels, daughter of Arthur, Baron Michaels,” Alice said.

“Gavin Ennock, agent of the Third Ward,” Gavin said.

“And a friend,” Jun added. “Please, sit. My servants will bring food.”

Before Alice had time to wonder at the friend remark, a servant settled her on a chair and Gavin on a sofa, then quickly set small tables near their elbows while another servant, the one who had brought them inside, trundled the cart up and uncovered the food trays. Three mechanical spiders leapt out from under the cart and climbed to the table. They scooped food onto plates, which they rushed to set on the little tables. But instead of simply leaving the plates there, each spider captured a bit of food between two tendrils. Before Alice could react, “her” spider climbed up her arm, perched on her shoulder, and poked the food at her. She was so startled, she opened her mouth to protest. The spider dropped the morsel neatly between her lips and scuttled down her arm for more. Gavin and Jun received their food in the same way. Jun watched them both for their reaction. Gavin was working to hide his surprise, and Alice quickly schooled herself into an expression of nonchalance. One didn’t remark on food or how it was served. It was, though, quite delicious and a bit spicy, with ginger in it.

Jun started with small talk, asking Alice about her family, and then Gavin about his, and she felt compelled to do the same for Jun. She kept a practiced expression of politeness on her face, though inside, beneath the dress, she was prowling like a tiger, wanting to pounce on obvious questions. Jun, however, refused to come to the point. Alice quickly sensed she was in a game, one whose rules she knew well-the first to bring up the real subject would have to tell everything. Gavin started to interject, but Alice caught his eye and gave a slight shake of her head to stop him, and all the while the spiders popped food into their mouths.

“What do the ladies at the Chinese Imperial court wear, my lord?” she asked. “I must have every detail.”

And when he started to answer, Alice pinned him down further, asking for finer and finer detail. “What color of fan? What shade of scarlet? Do the shoes match the gown or the embroidery?”

Gavin was squirming, and the food plates were empty when Jun Lung finally let out a soft sigh and said, “It is a pleasure to talk to you, Lady Michaels.”

“But I must hear more!”

Jun held up a hand, and Alice knew she had won. “I have heard that you, Mr. Ennock, have come into possession of a small object of interest.”

“I have,” Gavin said with relief.

“May I see it?”

Gavin held up the silver nightingale, and Ambassador Lung let out another sigh. “That is indeed the object.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin asked.

At that moment, the front door opened, and into the room strode a Chinese boy of perhaps seventeen, though he was dressed in an ordinary shirt and trousers. Gavin leapt to his feet. “My God!”

“You!” The boy ran over and shook Gavin’s hand in both of his. “It is you!”

Alice blinked, bewildered. “What’s going on?”

“He saved my life,” the boy said. “He saved me!”

“Where have you been?” Jun asked sharply, then dropped into Chinese. The boy responded in kind, alternating between looking abashed and stubborn. Jun was clearly struggling to keep his temper under control in front of guests.

“This is Feng Lung, my son,” Jun said finally. “And that nightingale he gave you was built by my grandfather, who was one of the Dragon Men.”

“Dragon Men?” Alice asked.

“Your empire calls them clockworkers.”

“You are unhappy that I gave him the nightingale, Father, but I would be a memory for your sorrow instead of a target for your anger if not for him,” Feng said.

“What are you talking about?” Alice said.

“It happened in Hyde Park,” Gavin began.

“Of course it did.”

As Gavin told the story of how he hid a young Oriental man from his pursuers, Alice’s eyes went wider and wider.

“I was in the park that day,” she said breathlessly. “I heard your music, the most beautiful music since God created the earth, and then I heard the shot. I thought I must have been hearing things.”

Feng added, “I gave my brave friend the nightingale as a token to one who saved me with his music. And now he can copy his music whenever he wishes.”

“Copy?” Gavin said.

Now Feng looked surprised. He dropped to the sofa next to Gavin. “Haven’t you seen? If you press the left eye, the bird listens to sounds until you press that eye again. If you press the right eye, it sings the sounds for you.”

Astounded, Gavin held the bird up. Feng pressed the left eye. “Good morning,” Gavin said, then pressed the right eye.

“Good morning,” the bird said in Gavin’s voice.

Gavin gaped. “Is that what I sound like?” he said.

“It’s wonderful!” Alice said. “A true treasure.”

“Yes.” Jun stroked his chin. “But now you must tell me why you came here. I thought it was about the nightingale.”

Alice shook her head. “It’s about the clockwork plague and clockworkers.”

“Ah. Did the Queen send you?”

“What? No!” Alice said. “The Queen has no idea we’re-”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Jun interrupted. “She’s a well-informed woman, and I’m surprised she allows your country to treat Dragon Men-clockworkers-with such deplorable disdain.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin asked.

“You Englishmen shun clockworkers as if they carry disease,” Feng put in. “In my country, Dragon Men are revered. We gather them up and give them workshops and money and status so they can create their wonderful inventions. A Dragon Man brings any family great honor.”

“And what about Dragon Women?” Alice asked.

“They are all Dragon Men,” Jun said, “whether they are male or female. Though I suppose China should not complain about the way Britain treats its clockworkers. The balance of power between our empires, as I’m sure you know, is delicate. The British Empire controls the oceans and most of the air, and it has colonies everywhere. The Chinese Empire does not expand its borders, but it does control the tea, silk, and porcelain trades. Europe and the Ukrainian Empire separate us, so we don’t come into direct conflict, but the. . tension is still there.”