I don't trust them as far as I could throw them.'
'Well, your obvious lack of distrust of technology is adorable, in a down-to-earth, rough-guy sort of way,' Wilson said, 'but that doesn't mean that you haven't had a good idea. Purely by chance, of course, but there it is.'
'I have half a mind to arrest you,' Matthew fumed.
'You can't arrest him. He's here with me, and I'm here representing the Council,' I said.
'Jacob Burn, the last time I saw you, you were in custody for acts of terrorism. That you were sprung by that monster Tomb does nothing to raise my opinion of you.' He spat over his shoulder and gave me a little shove. 'For all I know you're here to disrupt my investigation, break into the Church of the Algorithm, and steal some bit of magic coggery to undo whatever it is that happened to Patron Tomb and take over the Council.'
'I want to get back to the part where the Church and Crane were in on this from the beginning,' Wilson said. Stubborn, stubborn bug. 'Because that has legs. Maybe they've had some trouble with their source of cogwork and are trying to supplement their Algorithm with work from the Artificers. Or maybe they've finally decided to cast off the Council and take over the city. That seems entirely possible.'
'Enough bright ideas,' I said. 'We've got enough trouble without trying to make up new conspiracies.' I began ticking points off on my fingers. 'Crane is the last remnant of a family of Artificers, purged out when the Guild was exiled. He's back to get revenge on the city. He's killed a bunch of Councilors, and now he's trying to destroy the religion that got the Guild in trouble in the first place.' I held up my hand, showing my fingers to Wilson, Matthew, and the gathered officers of the Badge. 'That's the story we're sticking to. Everyone got it?'
Numb nods all around. Poor guys had probably thought they were dealing with a simple power struggle in the Council. Only Matthew looked unconvinced.
'Good enough,' I said. 'So we're going to go in there, find Ezekiel Crane, and we're going to kill him. I don't want to know anything more about his motives, I don't want to give him a fair trial in a court of his peers, I don't want to question him to find anything out. I want him shot. And if that doesn't kill him, I want him shot again. Any questions?'
None of them bothered to nod. They just stared back at me.
'Okay, then. The front door is as good a place as any to start. Suit up, check your ammunition, and follow me.'
Chapter Sixteen
Matthew had the best with him, that was obvious. They moved across the courtyard efficiently. Covering corners, communicating through hand signals, staying low and fast. I had never seen anything like it. Probably good that the average Badgeman wasn't this well trained. We'd have no decent crime in the whole city.
The original seat of the Church of the Algorithm was a tiny stone chapel that still served as a side entrance to the complex. If it wasn't attached to this seething, nightmare architecture, the chapel could have fit in on the street of any tiny country hamlet. It looked out of place, though. I think the Wrights kept it out of nostalgia, instead of tearing it down and rebuilding it, as they had with the other buildings they had absorbed over the years. This tiny chapel had a low wall, and a courtyard, and then a tall wooden door that led into the nave. The nave itself was choked with machinery, but legend says that it was the first chamber of the Algorithm, the first room where the pattern had formed.
We rushed across the courtyard, Matthew's team leading the way. Secured the gate, then the wall, then the front door of the chapel. I let them do their job, but when it came time to charge in to the chapel itself, I felt it was my duty to be in front. So how's that for a change? Leading a charge of cops, into a church. Not my usual approach.
Wilson and I huddled outside the door. We had seen nothing of the Wrights, or Crane, or his small army of crows. Large army. I don't know how big an army of crows is supposed to be, but I felt Ezekiel had a lot of crows.
'What's the plan?' Wilson asked. Matthew and his team were close by, watching windows and alleyways.
'Have you ever asked me that and had me tell you something useful?' I answered.
'Not really.'
'Then let's stick with that. We're just going to go in there and figure out what's going on. We're going to find Crane. Probably shoot him.' I checked the load on my shotgun for the fortieth time and settled my back against the stone wall. 'Mostly we're not going to get killed. And we're going to save the city.'
'Right,' Wilson said, skeptically. 'And that's all you have?'
'That's it.'
Wilson looked to Matthew. They both shrugged.
'Let me try,' Matthew said. 'We go in. We secure our immediate area and assess the situation. Then we make a decision.'
'That's pretty much what I said.'
'He said it more clearly,' Wilson pointed out. 'Either way. They both start with 'We go in.''
'Agreed.' I stood up and gathered Matthew's team behind me. When everyone looked ready, I gave the nod. One of his bully boys smashed in the door with a hammer bigger than my leg. I rushed in after him.
The room was dark and silent. The only light was from the transepts of the old chapel, four arms that crossed the central chamber. Each transept held some kind of altar, and each altar was glowing faintly in the darkness. The altars themselves appeared to be idling machines, the light coming from the internal workings, pulsing with heat and energy. The rest of the chapel bristled with cogwork, walls that were mosaics of gears, columns that looked like camshafts. The whole space looked like a thousand clocks had exploded at its center, and the shrapnel was embedded in the walls. And all of it was still.
I stumbled to a halt about halfway through the room. Wilson and Matthew bracketed me as the team secured the entrances. We looked around at the machinery in a kind of awe.
'Is it all like this?' Matthew asked. Civilians were rarely allowed into the inner spaces of the Church of the Algorithm.
'Almost none of it,' I answered. As a member of the Founding Families, I had seen much of the upper levels of the Church. And, of course, I had broken in with Emily, two years ago. I winced at the memory. 'In fact, I'm not sure this part of it is like this. These mosaics should be moving. The whole building should be.'
'Yeah. The whole Church is supposed to be one giant puzzle of cogwork, always in action, always running. Calculating the algorithm, or expressing it. Or something.' Wilson stared around the room like a kid in a candy store. 'It's definitely never supposed to stop.'
'So that's item one in our assessment of the situation,' I said. 'The Church is broken.'
One of Matthew's enthusiastic little soldiers gave a signal that I took to mean 'all clear.' Matthew stood up and wandered the room like a tourist.
'I don't like this,' I said. 'I mean, it's fine that the Algorithm has stopped. What I don't like is that there are no Wrights here.'
'It's a big building, and they're obviously having problems. Maybe they're somewhere else, trying to get the engine going again.'
'Trying to jumpstart your god,' I muttered. 'I can't imagine that's a good thing.'
Wilson shrugged. 'If they're not here, that means they're not stopping us from looking around.'
Matthew came back and made some complicated hand gestures.
'You can just talk to us,' I said. 'That's probably going to be quicker.'
'We're ready to move. There are no signs of struggle here. Main door is secured, and we've got two exits. One goes up, the other goes down.'
'Down it is,' I said. Much as I didn't like the idea, if there was trouble, it would probably be deep inside the Church.
