The Chemickal Marriage

you.’

Cunsher tossed a pair of worn black boots in Chang’s direction. Chang saw the leather was still good and the soles were sound. He wormed his foot inside one, stepped down on the heel, and then rolled his ankle in a circle.

‘It’s a damned miracle. Where did you find them? How did you know the size?’

‘Your feet of course – and then I have looked. Here.’ Cunsher took a pair of thin black goggles from a wooden crate. ‘Used for blasting. The Doctor related your requirements.’

Chang slipped the goggles on. The lenses were every bit as dark as his habitual glasses, but came edged with leather to block peripheral glare. Already he felt his muscles relaxing.

‘Thank you again. I had despaired.’

Cunsher tipped his head. ‘And you are dry. The others? We should not wait.’

But Chang subtly shifted his weight so he stood between Cunsher and the door. The man nodded, as if this too was expected, and thrust his hands into the pockets of his coat.

‘You do not know me. These enemies are strong – of course.’

‘You’re Phelps’s man.’

Between the thick brim of his hat and the even thicker band of hair below his nose, Cunsher’s face was lined and his eyes were as brown and sad as a deer’s. ‘You are like me, I wonder. We have stories – stories we cannot tell. Your Ministry had business where I lived, a business that in time allowed me to … execute a relocation.’

‘And you have served Phelps since? Served the Ministry?’

‘Not in its most recent campaign – which has assailed you, and whose part in it my employer most earnestly repents. But otherwise. I was abroad.’

‘Macklenburg?’

‘Vienna. When in time I came back –’

‘Phelps was gone.’

‘What is not gone? All your nation. One has seen such change elsewhere.’

‘Because a crust of parasites is getting scraped off the loaf? Worse could happen.’

Cunsher caught a tuft of moustache in his teeth and chewed. ‘Parasites, yes. Hate the oppressors, Cardinal Chang – there I am with you. But fear the oppressed, especially if they receive a glimpse of freedom. Their strength is, how to say, untrained.’

Cunsher reached into the wooden crate and came up with a small cracked teapot in the shape of an apple.

‘I had thought to make tea for the young lady,’ he said glumly. ‘There does not seem now the time.’

His body low, as if he were discerning the way by smell, Cunsher led them to a rutted cart road, and along it to the railway station at Du Conque.

As they waited for the train, Miss Temple stood apart under the station eaves, frowning at a faded schedule posting, for all the world the same insufferable girl who had made Chang and Svenson swear an oath on the roof of the Boniface. Chang found himself annoyed by her standing apart. Did she expect him to make a point of walking over to inquire after her health?

Svenson spoke of the need to search the train for any agents from Raaxfall and Chang grunted his agreement. In the presence of Phelps he could hardly speak freely, though the change in Svenson was clear. The Doctor’s starched manner had been leeched by loss to the brittleness of an old man’s bones. Quite casually, for he was abashed to realize he had not yet done so, Chang asked the date. Phelps informed him it was the 28th.

Two months since Angelique had died. Chang wondered what would have become of Angelique had she possessed Miss Temple’s privilege – then scoffed at his own sense of injustice. Angelique well born would have tolerated his presence even less.

The train came at last. When the conductor arrived, Miss Temple opened her clutch bag, speaking tartly to Phelps. ‘I assume you have money for yourself and your man. I will pay for the Doctor and Chang.’

Phelps sputtered and felt in his coat pocket for a wallet of wet bills. Miss Temple took her tickets and stuffed them into the clutch bag with her change.

‘I am obliged, my dear –’ began Svenson, but Chang hooked the Doctor’s arm and pulled him out of the compartment.

‘Your idea to search.’

They need not have bothered. Five carriages found no one from the Xonck Armaments works. At the far end, Svenson stopped for a cigarette.

‘As to our return. You have not been in the city. We would do well to avoid the crowds at Stropping.’

‘It can be done.’

Svenson nodded, inhaling sharply enough for Chang to hear the burning paper. Chang sighed, feeling obliged and resenting it.

‘I did not know about Eloise. I am heartily sorry.’

‘We failed her.’

Chang spoke gently. ‘She failed herself as well.’

‘Is that not exactly when we depend upon our friends?’

The silence hung between them, marked by the rhythm of the train.

‘I do not have friends, as a rule.’

Svenson shrugged. ‘Nor I. Perhaps in that way we fail ourselves.’

‘Doctor, that woman –’

‘Rosamonde?’

‘The Contessa. I promise you. She will pay.’

‘That is very much my intention.’ Svenson dropped the butt and ground it with his boot.

Returning, they met Miss Temple in the corridor, clearly on her way to find them.

‘Is anything wrong?’ asked Svenson.

‘Nothing at all,’ she said. ‘I mean no disrespect to Mr Phelps and his foreign agent – but – both of you – I thought the three of us might be together. If there are things we ought to say. Aren’t there?’

Chang saw Cunsher watching from the far end of the carriage. On being seen, the man retreated.

‘What things?’ asked Svenson.

‘I do not know,’ she replied. ‘But so much has happened and we have not talked.’

‘We have never talked,’ said Chang.

‘Of course we have! At the Boniface, and at Harschmort, and on the airship – and then at Parchfeldt –’ Her eyes met his and she swallowed, unable to go on. Svenson took Miss Temple’s arm and indicated the nearest compartment, which was empty.

She sat in the middle of one side, leaving Chang the choice to sit next to her, which seemed too forward, or opposite – where he installed himself against the window. The choice passed to Svenson, who settled on Chang’s side, leaving a seat between them. Miss Temple looked at each man in turn, her face reddening.

She took a deep breath, as if to start again, but only let it out with a slump of her shoulders. Svenson slipped out his silver case.

‘Did you not just have one?’ asked Chang waspishly.

‘They do sharpen the mind.’ Svenson clicked the case shut and tapped the cigarette three times upon it, but did not light it. He cleared his throat and addressed Miss Temple, far too stiffly. ‘Indeed, it has been some time since we three were together. All the days with Sorge and Lina – but you were not strictly with us then, were you Celeste?’

‘You both left me!’

Chang rolled his eyes.

‘O I know you had reasons,’ she added, with an impatience that made Chang smile. She saw the smile and went on with a venom normally reserved for disobedient maids. ‘I have said this to the Doctor, but perhaps you will appreciate that I have passed the last five weeks believing you had both been killed through my own foolishness. It was a terrible burden.’

‘Now we are alive you may unburden yourself, I am sure. Do you wish to dissolve our little covenant and go our separate ways, is that it?’