The Impossible Cube Read online

  Another glance at the trees. “Ah, yes. I miss Number Eight, too. What? No, I have definitely improved your design since then. Look at yourselves. I can make you blossom and create seedlings that grow their own metal frameworks, if only you have enough minerals in your roots. The entire forest will walk at my command! I only need more money. Money to buy more metal for my hungry trees.”

  Through the hole in the roof flew a small whirligig, its propeller twirling madly to keep it aloft. It trailed a rope. The whirligig zipped down to a support beam close to the ground and grabbed it with six spidery limbs, leaving the slanted rope behind it. Two of the trees creaked and leaned sideways, as if they were searching for something. Antoine, sensitive to their moods, started to turn. The unnatural position of Gavin’s arms started new pains in his shoulders. The aches made Gavin’s concentration waver, and he had to force himself to speak up and divert Antoine’s attention.

  “Where are you going to get money?” he said. “You live in a forest.”

  Distracted, Antoine turned his attention back to Gavin. “He doesn’t know that I will collect a reward for capturing him, yes, I will. But will I play with him first? Also, yes.”

  Gavin froze. “What reward? What are you talking about?”

  “Is it a large reward? Enormous!” Antoine began to pace. The cat watched him intently, and when Antoine’s twisted back was turned, it bolted out from under the table and took a flying leap onto Gavin’s back. Its claws sank into Gavin’s skin, and Gavin sucked in a sharp breath at the pricks and stabs of eighteen claws.

  “Ow! Click!” Gavin gasped.

  Antoine glanced sharply at him, but the cat was hidden from view behind Gavin’s body. “Click?”

  “I said I’m sick,” Gavin managed. “Who could be offering a reward for me? I’ve been in France only a few days.”

  “That would be Lieutenant Susan Phipps.”

  Gavin’s blood chilled. “No,” he whispered.

  “Ah. Did you see the way I frightened my new subject?” A pause, and his expression turned churlish. “But I should be allowed to play before I turn him over to Lieutenant Phipps. Just a little. Just enough.”

  “What about Alice?” Gavin couldn’t help blurting. “Is there a reward for her, too?”

  “Would I like to double the reward?” Click the cat climbed higher just as Antoine snaked out a hand and pulled Gavin closer by his hair, which gave Gavin an excuse to yelp in pain. “Where is your little baroness?”

  At that moment, a woman in a brown explorer’s shirt, trousers, and gloves slid through the hole in the roof and down the slanted rope. Her hair was tucked under a pith helmet, and her belt sported a glass cutlass. Her expression was tight, like a dirigible that might explode. Alice Michaels. Oh God. Gavin’s chest constricted and he felt a mixture of love and alarm, devotion and dread. He was so glad to see her he wanted to go limp with relief even as he was terrified the clockworker would capture her as well.

  “We split up,” Gavin gasped, too aware of the cat on his back. What the hell was the damned thing doing? “Right after we left England. The Third Ward was chasing us and we decided it would be safer. You’ll never find her.”

  “Do I believe him? No, I do not. Do I think his Alice is somewhere nearby? Yes, I—”

  “MONSEIGNEUR!” boomed one of the trees. “MONSEIGNEUR! ROCAILLEUX!”

  Everything happened at once. Antoine snatched up the brass pistol from the worktable. Click scrambled up Gavin’s legs to his ankles and extended a claw into the shackles. Alice whipped the glass cutlass free with one hand and sliced the rope below her. Clinging to the top piece like a liana vine, she swung downward. With a clack, Gavin’s shackles came open and he dropped to the ground, barely managing to tuck and roll so he wouldn’t hit his head. Antoine fired the pistol at Alice. Yellow lightning snapped from the barrel. Thunder smashed through the greenhouse. An anguished shout tore itself from Gavin’s throat. The bolt missed its target, and four windows shattered. Alice landed several yards away from the circle of trees, stumbled, regained her feet in waist-high shrubbery. Click dropped to the ground in front of Gavin. Antoine took aim at Alice again.

  Now enraged, Gavin tried to come to his feet, but his legs, chained for too many hours, gave way. Instead, he snatched up Click and threw. Click landed on Antoine’s head with a mechanical yowl. Antoine’s arm jerked. The pistol spoke, and thunder slammed the air as the yellow bolt tore through the top of one of the trees. Another window shattered.

  “ROCAILLEUX,” the tree cursed. To a tree, anything rocky was bad.

  Alice crashed through the bushes toward Antoine, who was still struggling with Click. Blood flowed from a dozen tiny cuts on the clockworker’s face and head. He finally managed to fling the cat aside and bring the pistol around on her.

  “Alice!” Gavin’s heart wrenched with terror for her. Already he could envision the smoking hole in her chest.

  Antoine’s finger tightened on the trigger. Without pausing in her stride, Alice swung the glittering cutlass and severed the power cable. It spat sparks and dropped to the ground like a dying electric snake. A magnificent move, and Gavin grinned. But instead of hesitating, Antoine swung the barrel of the pistol. It clipped Alice on the side of the head, and she stumbled.

  “Pute!” Antoine snarled. “Do I care if I get a reward for her alive? No, I do not!”

  Angered again, Gavin wrenched himself to his feet and rushed at Antoine, but the clockworker was ready, and stiff-armed Gavin in the chest. Antoine looked old, but he was actually young and strong and gifted with heightened reflexes by the disease that was also burning through his brain. Gavin possessed similar strength and reflexes, but he was still hobbled by his hours in shackles, and he staggered back.

  Alice recovered herself, but instead of going for Antoine, she ran for one of the brass-limned trees. Antoine snatched up a set of huge hedge-trimming shears and flipped a switch. They chattered and chopped as he ran toward her, foam and spittle trailing from his mouth. Alice scrambled up the tree. Antoine swung the shears and gouged out a chunk of brass and bark just below her boot.

  “ROCAILLEUX,” the tree said.

  Knives and needles slashed Gavin’s sore muscles, but he ignored them and forced himself to move. He slammed into Antoine from behind, stopping the clockworker from swinging the shears again but not knocking him over. Instead, Antoine’s plague-enhanced reflexes allowed him to spin and jab at Gavin. The shears snapped at Gavin’s arm, and he barely yanked it out of the way. Air puffed past his fingers as the blades closed. He grabbed Antoine’s wrist and twisted, hoping to force him to drop the shears, but Antoine was stronger than he looked and Gavin’s stiff muscles continued to disobey him. Antoine slowly forced the shears back around until the blades were snapping at Gavin’s neck. A warm drop of saliva dribbled from Antoine’s mouth onto Gavin’s cheek.

  “Will the boy pay?” he hissed. “He will!”

  The tree Alice had climbed creaked and bent. “Gavin! Down!”

  At Alice’s shout, Gavin relaxed and let himself fall. It never occurred to him not to. He dropped to the grass, leaving Antoine standing above him. One of the tree’s branches swung around at chest height. Gavin caught the surprise on Antoine’s face just before the tree swept him aside like a toy soldier knocked off a table.

  “Hurry!” Alice called. “Climb up.”

  Gavin struggled to his feet and jumped onto the lowered branch. Click followed, his claws digging into the bark and offering a clear advantage over Gavin, who had to cling as best he could while the branch hauled him up to the main trunk. Alice, surrounded by pedals, cranks, levers, and pulleys, was seated on a bench built into the wood. She spun one of the cranks, and the tree straightened again. Then she grabbed the front of Gavin’s shirt and pulled him down for a long kiss.

  The world stopped for a moment. The pain in Gavin’s body receded, and Alice’s warm lips pressing against his own made him feel both safe and calm, even as they stole his very breath. He kissed h
er back, so thankful to see her that tears came to his eyes. They parted.

  “That’s for being alive when I came to get you,” Alice said, then slapped him lightly on the cheek. “And that’s for getting captured and scaring me half to death in the first place.”

  “I love you, too.” Gavin said. “Now, run! He’ll recover in a minute, and I’m not up for fighting him. I don’t suppose you brought Dr. Clef’s power gun.”

  “Too heavy to carry down the rope, darling.” Alice held out an arm and whistled. The whirligig buzzed in and settled on her shoulder. Click took up a position on the bench beside her. “We’re safe for the moment anyway. These trees don’t move unless you tell them to. Do you want to drive? I never handled the original Tree back home.”

  Below, Antoine had already regained his feet and was staggering toward the worktable.

  “Antoine can control them from the ground,” Gavin said tersely. “Go! Go now!”

  Alice didn’t hesitate or ask for further explanation, which was one of the many reasons Gavin loved her. She hauled ropes and yanked levers. The tree stomped forward on a bifurcated trunk that ended in balled roots. Antoine reached the worktable—and the control panel. Alice stomped another step forward, and another. She had nearly cleared the ring of mutated trees.

  “Will I kill them?” Antoine screamed from the control panel. “Will I?”

  “He’s losing his mind,” Gavin observed as Alice worked. “He’s not even answering his own questions.”

  Antoine’s hands moved swiftly over the panel, flipping levers and twisting dials. A low-pitched hum throbbed through the earth and vibrated even the tree.

  “FEUILLU,” said the tree.

  “Is that French for leafy?” Gavin asked.

  “Yes,” Alice said. “He must like the vibrations. I find them most uncomfortable.”

  “It’s a very low C,” said Gavin.

  “You and your perfect pitch. Good heavens, how I missed you, darling.”

  Antoine yanked a large lever, and all the other trees snapped to attention. “Destroy them!”

  “Uh-oh,” Gavin said. “Can you move faster?”

  “The tree is trying to follow Antoine’s orders instead of mine,” Alice replied grimly. “But I seem to be getting the hang of it.”

  The tree picked up speed even as the other trees—four of them—turned as one and stomped in Alice’s wake. Alice, for her part, was guiding their own tree straight toward the perimeter of the glassy greenhouse. Gavin clung to the branch with white fingers. The noise was incredible. Heavy trees thudded across the ground like an army of gods, the vibrations that controlled the others throbbed in Gavin’s bones, and Antoine’s shrieks chased them faster than a flock of ravens.

  “It’s still fighting me,” Alice shouted. Her arms and legs worked the controls in a blur. “It wants to do what the others are doing.”

  “How are we going to get out of here?” Gavin called over the noise. “I don’t see a door.”

  “Cover your eyes!” was all Alice said.

  “ROCAILLEUX,” screamed the tree.

  They hit the greenhouse wall. Glass exploded in a thousand directions, and Gavin lurched forward. His feet left the branch, and he was flying through the air. The tree hadn’t smashed completely through, and its top third was caught on the remains of the greenhouse. Gavin tumbled forward, but the clockwork plague suddenly took over. The universe slowed. Green leaves and glittering glass surrounded him like strange snowflakes. Just below him were the tree’s branches, and he was aware of the drag coefficient of the bark, which places would slow him down and by how much. He saw every bump and nub, every side branch and twig, and his brain instantly mapped out a route that would take him to safety. Behind him floated Alice, and he calculated the arc of her flight pattern as well, then readjusted his own route accordingly.

  The universe burst back into motion, and his body, finally free of its earlier stiffness, turned the dive into controlled leaps and jumps down the tree’s branches until he came to rest on solid ground outside the greenhouse exactly where he wanted. Then he whirled and caught Alice. Her helmet flew on without her and cracked against a boulder. Gavin nearly went over backward, but just managed to keep his feet with Alice in his arms. Thank God. He held her tight, feeling her heart pound against his chest. The universe could come to a complete stop now, and he wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” she gasped, pushing a lock of tousled honey-brown hair out of dark brown eyes. “That quite took my breath away.”

  “Clockwork reflexes,” Gavin said. “I should be in a circus.”

  The tree was now standing with its lower branches sticking out of the glittering greenhouse, while the upper part was still trapped inside. Behind it stampeded the other trees. Click trotted out of the wreckage, his metal ears back, and the whirligig whizzed overhead, unhurt.

  “Now what?” Gavin asked, setting Alice down. “You do have a plan, right?”

  She took his hand. “Yes: run!”

  A rutted dirt road twisted through the woods ahead of them, and they sprinted down it. The late-summer breeze should have been uncomfortably warm, but it felt refreshing after the hot, still air of the greenhouse. Behind them, glass smashed and tinkled as the trees hit the side of the greenhouse, but they were tangling up with one another, and they were further hampered by the fact that all of them were making the exact same motions under Antoine’s control. Gavin, Alice, and the two little machines rounded a bend in the road, leaving the greenhouse and its howling inhabitant behind.

  “Why didn’t you have Click cut an exit at ground level instead of coming in through the ceiling?” Gavin puffed.

  “The glass is thicker at the base to support weight,” Alice pointed out. “It’s thin on the roof.”

  “So where are Dr. Clef and the Lady? Shouldn’t they be—?”

  A crackling crash brought them up short. From out of the trees beside the road about fifteen feet ahead of them burst a pair of mechanicals. They were nearly two stories tall, with squat, round builds, heavy legs, long arms, and gleaming brass skin. A glass bubble enclosed the top of each. Inside one rode a young man with dark, curly hair that peeked out from around his hat, and inside the other sat a woman in a long skirt, puffy white blouse, and fashionably small hat. The man pointed one of his mechanical’s arms at Gavin, and the hand ended in an impressively large gun barrel.

  “Aw, no,” Gavin groaned. “Simon, Glenda—you aren’t serious.”

  “Surrender, Gavin. You too, Alice,” said Simon d’Arco into a speaking tube. His voice, carried outside the bubble, sounded tinny and distant.

  “We’ve got you,” the woman added in a similarly tinny voice. “And you know it.”

  “I know nothing of the sort, Glenda,” Alice shot back.

  “What if we tell you to piss off, Simon?” Gavin said. “Are you going to shoot me? Squash me? We were partners in the Ward for months.” And you were half in love with me, he added silently.

  “You destroyed the Ward, Gavin,” Simon said. “It’s gone now. The Queen herself disbanded it. Our last mission is to arrest you for treason and bring you back for trial.”

  “Now that you’ve released that cure,” Glenda added, “we’ll have no more clockworkers to hunt down. The few we have are dead or dying.”

  “And millions of other people will live,” Alice replied hotly. “I don’t regret it for a moment.”

  “You thought of nothing but yourselves,” Glenda snapped, showing some agitation. “Nothing! The Ward was everything to me, Alice. I gave you a chance with the Ward and with Gavin, and this is how you repay me?”

  “We’re not going back to England, Simon,” Gavin said. “So are you ready to shoot me?”

  “He doesn’t have to shoot you,” said a voice that made Gavin stiffen. “He only has to delay you. Just like Antoine did, and admirably.” From the trees stepped a second woman. Her black hair, only slightly streaked with silver, was pulled into a twist. Sh
e wore a blue uniform with hat, boots, and epaulets. The coat was cut to show her left arm, which was entirely mechanical. It also had six fingers. Her name was Lieutenant Susan Phipps.

  “In the name of Her Royal Majesty and the Third Ward,” Phipps said, “I place you both under arrest for sedition, treason, and attempted murder.”

  “No,” Gavin said, though some of the bravado had left him. Phipps by herself was more imposing than even two agents in mechanicals. He made himself stand upright, though he was sweating under his arms. “Sorry, Lieutenant—Susan—but we all know that Glenda and Simon aren’t going to hurt us. We saved you from that doomsday invention Alice’s aunt dropped on headquarters. I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but it wasn’t very smart to bring those two. You should have brought someone who doesn’t know us.”

  “They’re loyal,” Phipps said, unruffled, “and won’t disappoint me. Unlike some.”

  Gavin couldn’t help flinching at that. When Gavin was only seventeen and stranded in London, Phipps had offered him a position as an agent of the Third Ward. She had seen him through his training, encouraged him, opened doors for him. She had lifted him out of the gutter and handed him the keys to the world, and he had betrayed her.

  “I’m… sorry, ma’am,” Gavin said. “Look, I’m not happy about what I—”

  “Oh, shut it, Gavin,” Alice interrupted. “We learned the Empire had been keeping the cure locked away to ensure the plague continues creating clockwork geniuses. You let thousands of people die excruciating deaths, Phipps, and have no right to debate morality.”

  “Thousands more will die because you released the cure,” Phipps said. “Because of you, China will have clockworkers for much longer than we, easily long enough to take over the world, and that conflict will cost countless British lives. So come quietly, or come noisily. It makes no difference.”