“What are you doing?” hissed Donaldson, the agent next to him. “Put that away!”
Gavin flipped the glass lid off the device and forced himself to drink, grimacing at the cloying taste of anise. By now, some of the others had noticed. They stared, uncertain what to do about this flagrant breach of protocol. Before they could make up their minds, a fluttering sound came from the stairwell, and a little automaton emerged into the hall, its propeller whirling madly. It held a red ball of the type Gavin had cautioned Alice not to drop in the weapons vault.
“Sorry, everyone!” Gavin shouted.
Phipps, still holding the Impossible Cube, spun in surprise just as the automaton dropped the ball on the stone floor. Pink pollen burst into the air and formed a sweet, choking cloud. The agents staggered as if drunk. Several dropped to the ground.
Gavin was already moving, the taste of absinthe still in his mouth. He sprinted toward the Doomsday Vault and caught Lieutenant Phipps as she slid to the floor. The Impossible Cube had already fallen at her feet. It glowed like a piece of broken sky.
“Wha-?” Phipps said.
“Sorry about this, Lieutenant,” he said again. “I really am.”
“Why?” Her eyelid flickered. “Why. . Gavin?”
Gavin hung his head in guilt. Phipps had turned a disgraced cabin boy into a full-fledged agent, and now he had betrayed her.
Alice rushed down the stairs, her lips smeared green. Click and Kemp followed behind her, and the little automaton fluttered down to land on her shoulder. “We have to hurry. You said the pollen wouldn’t last more than an hour.”
“Alice. . of course. .,” Phipps slurred. “You want. . the cure. . wreck. . world.”
“It needs to be wrecked,” Alice said, “so it can heal. Kemp, Click-you two wait out here. If Lieutenant Phipps wakes up, hit her on the head.”
“Yes, Madam.”
Gavin snatched up the Impossible Cube. Dr. Clef had charged it, and no one had wanted to drain the charge before the ceremony. It felt springy, as if made of pine boughs. Together he and Alice hurried into the open Doomsday Vault.
The long room inside was crowded with inventions, some on shelves and some on the floor. Some were easily recognizable as dangerous: a bomb the size of a sofa; a glass vial filled with black liquid and marked DEATH; an enormous energy rifle pointed at the ceiling. Others were a mystery: a single automaton with no features; a trumpet; a thick book; five live hamsters in a cage with no food or water. Each object had a small placard in front of it with a name and year. The very first one, closest to the door, was a large iron ball with spikes. The faded placard read RICHARD W., 1829. A chill ran down Gavin’s spine.
“Incredible,” Gavin breathed. “The power in this room could destroy the world a hundred times, and we walk around above it, living normal lives.”
“Our lives are far from normal,” Alice said tersely. “We need to find the cure and get out.”
They followed the tunnel to the back, where the placards were fresher. The line of inventions stopped, though the Vault itself continued for some distance.
“The Ward means to continue collecting these dreadful things,” Alice said. “Look!”
She picked up a largish spider made of polished black metal. Several tubules ran up and down the spider’s legs. The placard read EDWINA M., 1858.
“That’s the cure?” Gavin said dubiously.
“It’s the only Edwina invention in here.” Alice snatched it up. “We don’t have time for doubt. Let’s go!”
They hurried back to the entrance of the Vault, each of them carrying a doomsday device. Gavin’s heart beat fast, and his hands tightened around the Impossible Cube. Every move he made changed history, altered millions of lives, and that responsibility frightened him even more than the possibility of being caught and hanged. Maybe this was how Queen Victoria and President Pierce felt all the time.
“Shall I carry that for Madam?” Kemp asked.
“Thank you, no,” Alice said, clutching the spider to her chest. “Click! Hurry!”
The five of them, counting the little automaton that still sat on Alice’s shoulder, dashed past the sleeping agents down the hall where the clockworkers were locked in their laboratories, and found Edwina’s door. Gavin stared at the heavy wood for a moment, surprised at the amount of loathing he felt. Behind that door was the woman who had kidnapped him and infected him with the clockwork plague. He’d been trying not to think about that, to concentrate on the mission; however, now faced with setting her free, he felt disgust and hatred boiling black inside him.
“What are you waiting for?” Alice hissed. “Hurry!”
Gavin clenched his teeth. “She’s a monster.”
“Oh, Gavin!” Alice put a hand on his arm. “Gavin, I know it’s hard.”
“You have no idea, Alice. To her, I’m a windup music box, an automaton who’ll obey orders. She trapped me in this horrible, filthy city, and now she’s dragged me underground and is forcing me to set her free.”
Kemp made a coughing sound.
“I know, Gavin,” Alice said. “What she did is unforgivable. But you can move on. You’re bright and merry and you soar. Your hatred won’t change her, or what she did. Don’t give her the power to chain you down and ruin you.”
Gavin faced her. Every muscle in his back ached, and the cube grew heavy. His throat thickened. “I don’t know what to do, Alice. I hate this world. I hate the people in it. A man named Madoc Blue tried to do unspeakable things to me and I killed him. His blood was still on my hands when the first mate ripped my back to shreds. And then the Red Velvet Lady summoned me like a sorceress with a spell and locked me in her round tower so I would do her bidding. She’s the figurehead of all the horrible things that have happened to me. To my world. I’ve fallen so far, Alice, and I just want to fly again, be free of all these horrible people.”
“Free from me, Gavin?” Her arms went around him, and she kissed him. The warmth of her body went through him, and he closed his eyes, soaking in her presence. Thank God he wasn’t contagious yet.
“Can you do this?” she asked when they parted. “Not for me. For you. And for the world.”
Gavin bit his lip and nodded. Then he put his hand on the Impossible Cube, took a deep breath, and sang one note. The crystal D-sharp thrummed through him, built in intensity, rushed upward, and roared from his throat. The energy blew the door inward so hard, it cracked in two and the pieces smashed against the opposite wall. Gavin continued to sing. The Impossible Cube glowed blue in his hands. He was aware of Alice shouting at him, but he couldn’t stop. Silky anger and disgust poured out of him, slid from his throat in an orgasmic black stream. The badness felt so good, and he felt so bad that it felt good. He struggled against it, then gave in. His body shuddered with the pleasure of it. The cube glowed brighter, and his anger thundered through the underworld until the stones began to crack, and still there was more and more and more. Edwina shouted something at him, and he snapped his head toward her. She dived aside, and the power of his voice shattered the stones behind her. More and more fury tore from him. A hand grasped his shoulder, and he rounded with righteousness.
It was Alice. Her face held no trace of fear, only wonder and concern. Alice, who had also come from the hell that was London. He felt her love, both quiet and fierce, and the music buried within his anger answered it. Before the terrible note could touch her, he tightened his throat and changed it.
The new note rang white and clean as a bell that had only just cooled in the mold and still remembered what it was to be hot and pure. It swept every color of sound along the cracked stone corridors and poured over the sleeping agents, who smiled in their drugged sleep. It rushed over Alice and sheathed her in light, lifting her gently off the floor while sparks flickered about her like snowflakes. The little whirligig on her shoulder clung to its perch.