"Scratches?"
"On the wall. You know how you mark up the walls when you move something big? I saw these long black scrapes and knew something was wrong."
"How did you know it was the engine?" Cristof was pulling on his coat now, his grey eyes fixed on Lars’ face.
"I looked. There are four rooms down there, and we've got keys to them all. I just started opening doors." Lars looked ill. "And it's gone. The whole engine. It must have taken all night to dismantle."
"The team wasn't at the University last night?"
"No." He shifted from foot to foot. "The news, you know. That Alister was alive but under arrest, that he'd been caught trying to sabotage the Great Engine — we couldn't believe it. We were at PT's, reading every paper as soon as it came out, trying to parse out what had happened. I mean, none of us could concentrate on writing code while all of those rumors were flying around."
"PT's?" Taya asked, puzzled.
"The Pickled Thalassonaut. It's a programmer bar," Lars explained. "Every programmer in the city was there. We were stunned. And then the lictors came in and started asking questions, and they took our team down to the station… it was just too much. I don't think a single card got punched in the city yesterday."
Cristof was scowling.
"You're on suspension," Taya reminded him. "And you know who they're going to suspect."
"It couldn't have been Alister. He was in jail last night."
"Did he really…. "Lars looked at Taya.
"Yes. I'm sorry. He confessed."
"Lady." He shook his head, looking like a heartbroken bear. "I just can't believe it."
She patted his arm, watching Cristof. She could sense the gears turning as he tried to think of some way to take the case, but the frustration on his face showed that he wasn't having any luck.
"Everyone on the team had the key to the room?" she asked.
"Yes. Including Alister, of course, and the engineering team in the College of Science and Technology who built the engine. Probably an administrator or two, as well, but you'd need to ask the dean about that."
"How many of them visited the engine on a regular basis?"
"Just Alister and the chief engineer. They were still testing it. I don't think it had run anything more complex than some simple mathematics programs, just to test the — um, the parts."
She sensed that he was avoiding something. "Is it a secret?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Nothing that would mean much to you, but we signed confidentiality agreements…
"All right." Taya nodded, curious but not inclined to pursue the matter. She was used to carrying secret messages and mysterious packages, and if she ever became a diplomatic envoy, the secrets would only multiply. "How hard is it to dismantle an analytical engine?"
He grimaced.
"If you want to use it again, you have to know exactly what you're doing, and you need an expert to put it back together. You can't just take a piece of complex machinery like that apart with a hammer and a wrench."
"Who on your team could do it?" Cristof asked, looking up.
Lars took a deep breath.
"Me. Kyle. Emelie. Vic and Izzy aren't mechanics."
"Have you tried looking for anyone on the team besides Kyle?"
"No… he's the boss. I wanted to tell him, first. If this… it's bad enough that Alister's in jail. For the team to be implicated in a theft, too…."
Cristof nodded and looked at Taya.
"I'll take Lars to the lictors," he said, sounding resigned. "You—"
"If I'd wanted to go to the lictors, I would have!" Lars growled. "I need to find Kyle."
"I don't care what you want," Cristof shot back. "The city's in the middle of a security crisis. The Great Engine's out of operation, the Tower's all but abandoned, one of our decaturs is in jail, and now our newest analytical engine has been stolen. This is bigger than your team's reputation, Lars."
The programmer caviled a moment, then muttered and agreed.
"I'll go talk to Alister," Taya volunteered. "I'll ask if he knows anything about this."
"What makes you — no, never mind." Cristof looked sour. "All right. I'm going to try to talk my way onto this case. How can I reach you, if our paths don't cross?"
"If it's late, send a message to the eyrie, but I'll try to find you before then."
Cristof ducked back into the restaurant to pay for their aborted meal. Taya angled herself next to Lars so that his bulky frame blocked off most of the wind.
"Did Alister really kill Decatur Octavus?" Lars asked.
"Yes."
"And that woman?"
"Uh-huh."
"It's hard to believe. He always seemed so normal."
"I know."
"You think he's involved in this? The theft?"
Taya thought about it a moment.
"He could be if he thought stealing the prototype would benefit the city."
"But he was in jail last night, so he couldn't have been one of the thieves."
"That's true."
"There are lots of troublemakers in Ondinium."
Taya glanced at him. "He told me he was glad you ran the program in his honor. And he laughed when he heard what it said."
The big man's cheeks colored over his brushy stubble. "Probably some kind of prank he and Kyle hatched up together."
"Oh, I don't think so."
Cristof returned. "All right, let's go. Taya, stay off that leg. Take a hack around town. Do you have money for the fare?"
"Enough. Don't worry about me. I'm used to getting around."
"On wings." He frowned. "I should have hired that coachman of yours for the day."
"I'll be all right."
"If you're certain." He hesitated, then quickly stepped forward, laying a hand on her shoulder and giving her a fleeting kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later."
Taya rested her cheek against his cold fingers a moment. "I hope you get the case." She turned to Lars, who was giving them a bemused look. "You know, you'll be treated better by Cris than by anyone else. He knows you and your team. Maybe you shouldn't talk freely to any lictor but him."
The programmer closed his mouth, then scratched his chin with a thoughtful look.
"Yeah, that makes sense. The rest of the team would probably feel the same way."
"You're devious," Cristof said to her, with appreciation. Taya leaned on her crutch and winked at him.
Chapter Fifteen
When Decatur Neuillan had been arrested for treason, he'd been held in a special cell on Primus. Taya guessed that was where Alister would be held, too, so she took a hack to the station. Two lictors stood at the station door, each carrying air rifles. The sight of armed guards was unusual enough to suggest that her guess about the decatur's location was correct.
"Hi." She caught her breath. "I'm Taya Icarus. Can you tell me who's in charge of Decatur Forlore?"
The lictors’ attentiveness transformed into wariness and something else. Dislike?
"Captain Scarios," one said, coldly. "Ask for him at the desk."
"Thank you." She limped to the front desk. Within a few minutes, she was sitting in the captain's office.
Scarios was an older man. Streaks of grey ran through his dark hair, and his black lictor's stripe had grown soft-edged with age. He looked tired, and Taya suspected that it was the kind of bone-deep weariness that set in after too many years at a thankless job, rather than the result of temporary sleeplessness.
"Some of the caste resent the fact you killed a lictor," he said, after they'd exchanged the necessary pleasantries. "Those two men had friends at this station."
Taya lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, captain. I feel terrible about it."
"I expect the investigation will clear you. It'd be hard to argue you weren't defending yourself when you've got a bullet hole in your leg. But there's going to be hard feelings, anyway. You should try not to do anything that would cause trouble."