turbines, and now the Cube was taking more energy from him. He felt like a water glass with a hole in the bottom, but he kept singing. The crowd followed along. It wasn’t the entire city, thank heavens—only those who could hear the note, the ones who were in danger of the impending deluge. When they encountered a bridge, the people on the far side of the river crossed over to Gavin’s side. Gavin was becoming seriously tired now, and the intervals between breaths were growing shorter. He forced himself to keep up the volume, and Cube glowed like captured sky in his hands.
A booming crack in the distance behind them, louder than thunder from an angry god, told Gavin the dam was beginning to fail now. Cracks were racing through its structure. Once it went, a swath of downriver Kiev would be washed away, and his clockwork was automatically calculating the path, volume, and velocity of the water. His voice wavered, tainting the purity of the note. The Cube’s glow dimmed, and a wave of fear swept through the crowd. They heard the thunder and saw the plague zombies in their midst. Screams and knots of panic broke out. Sweating, Gavin forced his voice back to the G. The Cube’s blue glow steadied. The crowd calmed and continued. Phipps shot him a worried look, but she didn’t dare speed up and outpace the crowd.
Gavin’s body was starting to shake from the effort now. Every bit of concentration he had poured into holding that single, silver note. The vague memories of his father loomed up. He had to hold the note perfectly, with absolute precision, or Dad would—
No. It was nothing to do with his father. He needed perfection in this time and in this place because these people needed it to live, and he would do it. He would be the voice they needed. For them. Not his father.
A new strength came over him, and he sang and sang and sang. The note held steady—and perfect. The crowd came quickly and happily and in an orderly fashion.
And he realized the mechanical was kneeling beside the circus train. Alice and Glenda were in the engine compartment wearing ear protectors, and a wave of relief swept over Gavin when he saw a healthy cloud of smoke puffing from the stack. Dodd had said he would try to get the boilers going, and Alice had warned him not to stop. The circus people who hadn’t managed to flee joined the crowd, their expressions also happy and calm. Linda wasn’t among them, but Nathan and Dodd were, to Gavin’s relief. Click and the little automatons were perched on the engine’s roof, not bothered by the heat of the boilers.
Gavin kept up the note, though he could feel his voice starting to fail. An explosion upriver boomed against his bones and startled the crowd, but set off no panic. Instead, they piled into the train, into passenger sections and boxcars. They climbed onto the roofs and clung to the sides. They boarded the
Finally everyone was on board. People clung to every surface, inside and out. Phipps disconnected the Cube from the mechanical and helped Gavin up into the engine compartment with Alice and Glenda. He hoped it would retain enough power. His tired mind tried to run the formulas to find out and failed. Alice gave him a concerned look and moved toward him, but Gavin shook his head violently. She gave a tight nod and turned back to the boilers. Gavin kept singing, barely. His legs and arms shook with exhaustion. The tiny room was crowded, so Phipps stood back, near the coal carrier. Alice, who had certainly never driven a train before in her life but whose talent with machines let her understand them quickly, pulled levers and spun wheels, giving instructions to Glenda with gestures. The engineer was part of the crowd in the back, enthralled by Gavin’s voice.
A soft wind whispered over them, created by tons of unchained water pushing the air ahead of it. The train jerked forward. Wheels spun in place, caught for a moment, spun again, and caught for good. Slowly, the train moved ahead, gaining speed. The deadly flood thundered toward them, smashing stone buildings and washing away bridges.
Gavin’s strength gave out. The note ended. He dropped the Cube and would have fallen if Phipps hadn’t stepped forward and caught him. Glenda snatched up the Cube before it hit the ground, handed it to him, and went back to work.
“Are you all right?” Phipps asked.
Gavin felt like a sack of wet sand. He could only give a small nod. Phipps helped him slide to the metal floor, though he could see out through the space between the coal carrier and the engine, the Impossible Cube in his lap. Without his voice to keep things steady, fear swept the people on the train. Demonic howls and screams trailed behind them, and some of the people clinging to the sides and top fell off. The train rocked, but Alice didn’t slow. Gavin didn’t have the strength to feel sorrow for the ones they had lost. The river roared behind them, reaching for them with watery dragon hands. The train gained speed. Buildings rushed past them, then were devoured by the river. Despite the train’s speed, the river was gaining on them, eating the tracks behind them.
“It’s hard,” Alice said, her ear protectors now around her neck. “Everyone’s panicking and rocking the train. It slows us down.”
Glenda looked out the window and back. “The river’s getting closer, nearly to your ship.”
Coal dust smudged Alice’s lovely face. She looked at Gavin, and he could see the reluctance. “Darling, can you… ?”
He didn’t have the power. He couldn’t even lift his arms. But Gavin met her brown eyes. This woman had led him into hell and changed him and now she was leading him back out. She needed him. With a groan, he lifted a leaden hand and dropped it on top of the Impossible Cube, let his mouth fall open, and whispered a note.
Nothing happened. The river thundered toward them. The train rocked again as people screamed and thrashed against one another, crushing and beating one another against the walls of the cars. Gavin swallowed, took a breath. He was Gavin Ennock. He could do this.
Gavin breathed out and sang. The G came through, crystalline blue. The Impossible Cube flickered, then glowed and the sound pulsed back over the train. The people instantly calmed. The train stopped rocking and picked up speed. Alice and Glenda, who had put their ear protectors back on, worked at the engines, while Phipps hovered over Gavin. He sang and sang while the train puffed faster and faster. The water receded behind them, and then the train took a curve that brought it uphill. It lost speed, but it went away from the water. Gavin’s hand was sliding away from the Cube, and Phipps reached down to press it back into place. The Cube was losing its glow, running out of the electricity it had taken from the mechanical. Half a mile flashed by, and they were at the top of the hill. Alice slowed the engine and let the train coast. It was drifting to a stop near a station.
“We did it,” Alice said, but her words came from far away. “Darling, you did it!”
The Cube went black. Gavin tumbled into darkness.
He was lying on a cloud, a soft, fluffy cloud. It was so restful and fine. Delightful not having to move. He had only a tiny moment to enjoy the sensation. Abruptly, he jerked fully awake as he always did, his heart beating at the back of his throat.
