The Impossible Cube

carried a pile of material covered in canvas.

“What’s this? What’s this?” Dr. Clef asked, and Alice made introductions. Dr. Clef clapped his hands in glee. “The circus! A perfect place to hide ourselves, then. But how will we hide the ship?”

“With this.” Gavin pulled the canvas off the wagon, revealing a pile of wheels and axles.

Dr. Clef clapped his hands again. “Of course, of course. I should have seen. Shall we work now?”

“I told you he would understand quickly,” Gavin said to Nathan, who only lit his pipe. They hauled the Lady out of the barn and tethered her a few feet above the ground so they could set to work. The endoskeleton continued to glow its lacy blue, and Alice felt nervous and exposed, like a fat rabbit on a meadow with hawks cruising overhead, but there was nothing for it.

“Alice,” Gavin said, “could you bring down your little automatons to assist? And then…”

She cocked her head. “And then what?”

“Uh… maybe you could go for a walk? Or just stay out of sight behind the barn. This shouldn’t take long.”

Her ire escalated. “Because you don’t think I’m qualified to help? How can you possibly think—”

“No, no.” He held his hands up. “I just don’t think you should see this.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Her voice rose and her metal fist clenched. “I’m too ladylike, is that it?”

“Not at all.”

“Uh-oh,” Nathan said.

“So I’m not a lady, then?” Alice said.

“What? No! I just… Alice, you’ve never seen a clockworker in a full work fugue before, have you?”

“And it’s not appropriate to me because I’m a lady.” She folded her arms. “It’s foolish to give up a pair of hands because of some misguided principles. I’m helping, and the sooner we get started, the better.”

Gavin closed his eyes. “All right. Let’s get started, then.”

They had to work quickly, before they were spotted and word filtered back to Phipps, wherever she was. Alice was no slouch at mechanical work, but even she was amazed at Gavin and Dr. Clef. They both circled the pile of parts and tools for some time, studying them, with her little automatons hovering and skittering nearby. Kemp and Click also awaited orders. A blank look came over first Gavin’s eyes, then Dr. Clef’s. They dove into the parts with great glee and rushed with them toward the Lady, barking orders to the automatons as they went. Alice followed along, and was startled when Gavin thrust an axle into her hands.

“Grind these ends smooth,” he boomed. “And be quick about it! Maybe then I can ride you into battle.” Then he turned away and flung a handful of bolts at one of the little whirligigs, who caught them in midair. He didn’t even seem to recognize Alice. At first she felt indignant. Then she felt sickened. She told herself it was the clockwork plague, not him, and when a clockworker entered a fugue, nothing mattered but the work, but she still felt like she’d been slapped.

“What are you waiting for, girl? The usual offer to tup you for half a sandwich?” Gavin snarled. His eyes were wild and his hair half stood up. Oil streaked his face and hands like blood. “Move!”

Face flaming, Alice did as she was told, and when she was finished, accepted another snarl from Gavin, this time to tighten bolts. The little automatons flitted and scampered about. He snatched her automatons and spiders one by one, opened them up, and changed their memory wheels around. They squeaked in protest, and Alice bit back a cry of alarm. Dr. Clef worked elsewhere, shouting orders at Kemp and Nathan. Click stayed out of the way. Alice felt as tense as the metal she tightened.

“Faster!” Gavin bellowed at her. “You’re slow and clumsy. Typical of dog meat.”

Alice kept her head down, feeling small and stupid and hating herself for it. Gavin had become another person, a sneering stranger, and she didn’t like him. Telling herself that it wasn’t his fault didn’t help much. After being barked at for the fourth time, she began to see why so many clockworkers were forced to build automaton assistants. The only saving grace was that Gavin and Dr. Clef seemed to be working three times as hard as anyone else.

“Hey!” Gavin dropped the automaton he was altering and dashed over to Dr. Clef, who was frantically reworking a set of wheels. “Those measurements are wrong, you fat idiot. You’re off by a good sixteenth- inch.”

Dr. Clef’s jowls reddened. “You’re not half the man your mother is, you grease-faced dog. The tracks are clearly—”

“Did you think I can’t see the obvious?” Gavin barked. “My mind is sharper than any tool you’ll ever touch, and certainly a good deal larger.”

Dr. Clef picked up a sledgehammer and hefted it with an ease and power that caught Alice off guard. She had forgotten that the clockwork plague enhanced his strength and reflexes just as much as Gavin’s. “We will see how large a tool I have.”

“Just a moment!” Nathan plucked the hammer from Dr. Clef’s hand. “Over there, Doctor. Does that axle look crooked to you?”

“And, Gavin,” Alice said, hurrying forward, “I don’t think that automaton is functioning properly.”

Both clockworkers turned, distracted, and moved fairly quickly to their new tasks. Nathan set the sledgehammer down.

“Clockworkers don’t work well together in fugue,” he murmured.

“I can see that,” Alice said.

“You!” Gavin snapped. “The one with an ass like a bag of laundry! Bring me that box of parts.”

“Don’t shout back. You just saw how it only makes them worse,” Nathan said quietly. “And don’t take it personally.”