Taya's favorite Cabisi restaurant was close to the University campus, where it served foreign students and the occasional adventurous Ondinium like her. Cristof stuck to his decision to fast, only nibbling on shreds of the flatbread served with the meal. They discussed what they knew so far. It wasn't much, but it was safe territory. Taya didn't know what to think about Cristof envying Alister. She didn't know what to think about Cristof, period.
It was easier not to.
When she'd finished eating, they walked the four blocks to the University, heading back down to the basement of the Science and Technology building. The familiar sound of an argument greeted them, but Taya didn't hear the clatter of the analytical engine or the chugging of the steam engines.
"Hello," she sang out, as they entered the room. The argument stopped as the programmers looked up. Palms hit foreheads and heads bobbed when they saw Cristof.
"This isn't a good time for a visit," Kyle cautioned them. A large schematic was spread on the table in front of him. "A bug cropped up this morning and we've been trying to hunt it down all day."
"Did something go wrong with one of your programs?" Taya looked at the huge analytical engine that stood motionless across half the room. The thick cables that led down to the steam engines in the basement were disconnected.
"No, it's mechanical, we think." Lars was inspecting a gear assembly. Cristof crossed the room to join him. "Some torsion in the spindles, maybe some gear drift…."
"What happened?"
"We came in this morning—"
"Afternoon," Victor corrected. He was sitting next to a box of punch cards, glancing at each and then setting it to one side. "We were hung over this morning."
"This afternoon, early, and we found the engine running on its own."
"Is that bad?" Taya pulled around a chair and sat in it backward, her wings rising behind her.
"It can't be very good for the mechanism," Cristof murmured, squinting as he examined the gears. "This is a precision machine, like a clock. Does it lose accuracy with metal wear?"
"Absolutely." Lars rubbed oil off a spindle.
"Lars thinks the mechanical problems might have affected Heart's results," Emelie said, smirking.
"That, or Alister had a serious glitch in his program," Lars growled. "Anyway, it's not just the fact that the engine ran all night. Its encryption keys were overridden, too, so anyone could have gotten in and used it while we were gone."
"Did they?" Cristof asked, suddenly intent.
"Not that we can tell, but…. "Isobel shrugged. "The place was a mess when we left. We couldn't tell if anything had been moved when we got in this morning."
"Afternoon." Victor tapped a card on the table and then put it back into his stack.
"Whenever."
"So, what went wrong with the Clockwork Heart program?" Taya inquired.
"It told us that Lars and Kyle had the best chance of a successful marriage," Emelie replied, grinning.
"The deal was, if any of us scored well together, we'd go on a date and see if the program was right." Kyle glanced up and smiled impishly. "But Lars has cold feet."
"I'd rather be ground through the Great Engine's gears," Lars grumbled.
"We all agreed to it," Kyle pointed out. "Don't worry. I'll take you someplace nice."
Taya laughed. "Isn't there some kind of — I don't know, some kind of program rule about couples being men and women?"
"That's what Victor's looking for." Kyle was still smiling to himself as he glanced down at the schematic again. "Either another function overrode it, or Alister was more of a free thinker than we thought."
"Good for Alister," Isobel said, unscrewing a metal panel.
Taya glanced at Cristof, wondering what he thought, but he was crouching and regarding the analytical engine with a furrowed brow.
"You'd think he'd put sex selection on top of the deck," Victor griped, "but it's not there. And some of these cards are ridiculous. He's got registers in here that don't make any sense at all."
"Did he write the whole program himself?" Cristof asked.
"Pretty much. It was his project." Victor scowled, putting another card into the stack. "I would have written this routine with much more elegance. It's as though he didn't care how much slagging computational power or time his program would take."
"Well, he was going to run it on the Great Engine, wasn't he?" Taya asked. "I mean, that's pretty powerful, right?"
"Aesthetics are essential. Programs should be as clean as possible. Alister was usually very efficient, but this mess is positively baroque."
"That's not the Great Engine's version of the program, is it?" Cristof asked. "The cards are too small."
"This was his test version, the one he ran here. Nobody tests a program on the Great Engine. It costs too much, and you wouldn't want to cause a crash," Kyle said.
"What would happen if the Great Engine crashed?" Taya cocked her head, imagining huge gears tumbling down against each other. "Is it something the Torn Cards might try? You said running a partial program like the one Cristof had last night could shut down an engine."
"It wouldn't be the end of the world," Lars said, handing Cristof a clean gear. The exalted began piecing the cleaned assembly back together again, looking as engrossed as he'd been while dismantling the eyrie clock. "But you'd panic a lot of engineers. An abrupt stop would throw gears and spindles out of alignment, and it might ruin a storage drum if the data were being written. Everything would have to be recalibrated before the Engine was started up again. That would take a few days. The program schedule would fall behind, you might lose some data, and Ondinium could get stuck with a surplus of widgets or something. Nothing serious."
"You keep saying that the Great Engine isn't very important, but I thought it was the main reason Ondinium's so powerful."
"Don't listen to the Organicists or the Social Engineers," Kyle advised, glancing up from the schematic. "They both credit the Engine with far too much power. It's just a fancy calculating machine. People decide what to do with the data it provides. If you looked at your watch and it said five o'clock, but you knew it was the middle of the night, would you believe your watch or your senses? Same with the Great Engine. If it gives the Council obviously inaccurate data, the Council will notice and make corrections."
"'Obviously’ being the key word, of course," Isobel said as she pieced together more metal parts.
"There's something very skewed here," Victor muttered, flipping back a few cards. "What in the Lady's name was he doing with this? Some kind of look-up…?"
"By the way," Taya said, "did you take that program from Alister's house? His copy is missing."
"This is his copy, but we found it here. He must have been working on it the night before he died," Emelie replied. Taya winced at her matter-of-fact tone.
"He was at a party that night."
"He might have come here afterward. He did things like that. Sometimes the best time to work is after midnight, when nobody else is around." Victor scrutinized a card. "Emelie, can you figure this out?"
She leaned over his shoulder, then picked up the cards that preceded it.
"Looks like it should loop. Where's the end?"
Kyle set down the schematic.
"If a loop set the program buzzing, it could keep the engine's gears spinning all night," he observed. "But an error that obvious should have come up during testing."
"This card is pretty new. Maybe he was experimenting," Victor suggested. He held up two cards. Even Taya could see the smudges of oil and wear around the perforations on the older card.
"Could a loop bypass the security on this engine?" Cristof joined them, studying the cards as if the punches might render up their meaning to him.
"No, but take a look at this." The other programmers huddled around Victor as he pulled out cards and spread them on the table, over Kyle's schematic.
Taya and Cristof backed away, giving each other blank looks.
"How soon can we get up to the tower?" Cristof asked, his voice low.
"Not until there's light. We can leave as soon as we can make out shapes, but you wouldn't want to fly into a tree or a cliff on your first time out."
"Or ever." He jammed his hands into his pockets, frowning at the motionless analytical engine.
"What are you thinking?"
"You don't want to know."
"How'd you like me to drop you while we're flying?"
He glanced at her.
"I'm thinking about what happened to Decatur Neuillan."
"Why?" Taya swallowed. "You don't think Alister had anything to do with that, do you?"
"What if Emelie was right?" His voice had dropped to an uncertain murmur. "What if Alister had given Neuillan too much information? Enough for Neuillan to circumvent the loyalty test?"
"If he did, it was just an accident."
"Let's say it wasn't." Cristof sounded defeated. "Neuillan was a family friend, and Alister's judgment wasn't always the best when it came to keeping secrets. What if Neuillan convinced Alister to tell him how to get around Refinery? And what if somebody found out what Alister had done, blackmailed him into writing a program that would harm the Great Engine, and then killed him to keep him quiet?"
"The Clockwork Heart program?"
"It's just coincidence that the team ran it last night. Otherwise, if it had gotten Council approval, it would have been run on the Engine."
"That's pretty far-fetched," Taya objected. "And Alister really believed in this program, I could tell."
"He fooled you before. He could be very convincing, when he wanted to be."
"Clockwork Heart wasn't about impressing me. It was personal."
Cristof looked troubled. "Maybe. But he also cared what people thought about him. If someone threatened to tell the world that Alister had a hand in Neuillan's treason…."
"But if Clockwork Heart didn't work right, that would make him look bad too, wouldn't it?"
"Making a programming error is one thing. Aiding and abetting a traitor is another." Cristof rubbed his eyes, knocking his glasses askew. "I don't want to believe that Alister would sabotage the Engine, but think about it. If he'd written a program that would break into the Engine's security, someone would have a very good reason to kill him and Caster. Killing Alister would keep the program's secret safe, and killing Caster would make sure Clockwork Heart got accepted in the Council's vote."
"But that doesn't explain the stolen Labyrinth program cards. Alister thought you did that."
"Hey, exalted." Lars looked over, his round face troubled.
"What?"
"No offense, but I think your brother was writing more just than a matchmaking program."
Cristof gave Taya a heavy look, then stepped up to the table.
"What is it?"
"Well, we haven't gone through the whole thing, but he's got routines here that look more like decryption functions than compatibility match-ups."
"This is the last program we ran last night," Kyle added. "It has to be the one that affected the engine, unless Lars finds a mechanical problem."
"I haven't found anything yet, and I've been over about two-thirds of the metal. It's still a possibility, but after seeing these cards…. "Lars shook his head.
"It's all Alister's work?" Taya asked, casting about for a better explanation. "Could someone else have inserted those cards into his program?"
"No, it's his," Victor assured her. "I've seen him use some of these functions before."
"Was the program sitting here when you came in yesterday?" Cristof asked.
"It was in his storage area."
"Locked?"
"Yes, but we all have each other's keys. When we heard he was dead, we decided to pull it out and run it."
"It doesn't make sense," Cristof muttered. "Why would he leave it here, where anyone could see what he was doing?"
"You wouldn't want to carry a program all day," Victor said, nudging the boxes at his feet. "A box of punch cards is heavy."
"Besides, this room's secure," Lars said. "And nobody would have any reason to think Clockwork Heart was anything other than a matchmaking program."
"Hey, wait a minute," Isobel protested. "You don't think Heart was specifically written to get access to an engine, do you? Alister wouldn't do that."
"I don't know," Cristof said, pulling his coat around him. "But if it was, somebody might be coming after this copy."
Taya and Kyle both spoke at once.
"Not necessarily." "If he is—"
They looked at each other. Kyle gestured for her to go first.
"If we're assuming this was written to run on the Great Engine, these are the wrong kind of cards. He would have had a second copy to run on the Engine, and that copy's probably still up in Oporphyr Tower," Taya said. "So if someone wants to get access to the Engine, they'll have to go up there to get it."
"And only icarii can get there right now," Cristof mused.
"The only other engine worth accessing would be the one in the Bank of Ondinium," Kyle added.
Taya felt a surge of excitement.
"A bank robbery! Maybe that's what this is all about!"
"But the Labyrinth Code…" Cristof objected.
"Does the bank use it?"
"Not that I know of," Lars said, looking thoughtful. "But you could be right, Kyle. Messing with the Bank of Ondinium would cause a lot more trouble than tampering with the Great Engine, and the bank uses paper cards."
Cristof stood deep in thought, his usual frown in place.
"As much as I'd prefer to stay in the bank than go up to the tower," he said at last, "there's too much evidence pointing to the Great Engine."
"But how would someone get up there?" Emelie asked.
"You can hike up to the Tower," Isobel pointed out. "It's dangerous, but it's possible. The wireferry service path runs all the way to the top."
"So somebody could already be up there." Cristof looked at Taya. "Is there any way—"
"No. I'm not taking you up in the dark."
"But if someone's trying to sabotage the Great Engine—"
"They're not climbing up in the dark, either. It's too dangerous."
"How long would the hike take?" Cristof asked Isobel.
"Depends. From Primus, at this time of year, two or three days, depending on how athletic and well-equipped you are. The cliffs are the hardest part. You'd need to know what you were doing, and you wouldn't want to get caught on the cliffs at night."
"Is the only access to the Great Engine through the Council tower?" Taya asked.
"As far as I know, yes," Kyle replied. "All the construction tunnels were blocked and sealed after the Engine was put into place."
"There's got to be some kind of maintenance tunnel. What if one of the steam engines needs replacing? Or a megagear?" Cristof insisted.
"Well, if there's another way in, it's a state secret. You'd know it better than we would."
Cristof looked frustrated as he pulled out his watch and checked it.
"It's not even nine yet," he muttered.
"How long would it take you to examine this program and find out exactly what it does?" Taya asked, turning to the programming team.
"A few hours, maybe."
"Would you do that? So far, all we have are suspicions. We could be completely wrong, and there's no point in speculating until we know what this does for sure."
"We might as well," Victor said, eying the boxes. "We can't do anything else until Lars reassembles the engine."
"Good." Taya grabbed a graphite pencil and scribbled her address on the corner of Kyle's schematic. "When you find out what it does, send a message to me here. No matter what time it is, okay?"
"What if we find out it is some kind of security workaround?" Lars asked. "Do you want us to tell the lictors?"
She looked at Cristof. He nodded.
"It could make Alister look bad," Kyle warned.
"I know. I trust that you won't raise any alarms unless you're certain there's a security risk. But if you feel there's a genuine threat to the city, warn the lictors and tell them your suspicions about a bank robbery."
"Don't mention that we're going to the tower, though," Taya added. "Please."
"All right. And don't worry, we'll be careful. Our reputations are linked to Alister's." Isobel shook her long hair back over her shoulders. "I can't believe he'd do anything shady, though. This has to be some kind of mistake."
"I hope it is," Cristof agreed.
"We'll leave you to work," Taya said, putting down the pencil. "Come on, Cristof."
The exalted equivocated a moment, then followed after her.
"Where are we going?"
"All we can do now is spin our gears, so we might as well go home and try to get some sleep."
"Just stop? When we finally have some idea of what's going on?"
"All we have are suspicions until they analyze that program. And all you can do with suspicions is give yourself a stomachache."
"There's such a thing as being too pragmatic, icarus."
"Do you have a better idea?"
"I'm going back to Alister's office to look for more information. We barely made a dent in that mess."
"You're just going to frustrate yourself," she predicted.
"I'm used to that. And I don't expect I'll get much sleep tonight, anyway."
"All right. I'll walk you back."
"No. Don't bother." His eyes slid away from her. "Get some rest. You're going to have your hands full tomorrow morning."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Taya sensed Cristof's reserve kicking in again. She didn't have the energy to fight it again. "All right. I'll see you at dawn, then. Meet me at the gate next to the flight docks."
"Shortly after five." He hesitated, then reached into his vest. Gold glinted in his hand as he held it out. "Don't be late."
"I don't need that."
"Just in case. Since your eyrie clock is inaccurate."
She met his eyes a moment, then took it. The pocket watch's gold case was warm. She curled her fingers around it.
"I'll see you at dawn."
He nodded, and she turned and headed for the University dock, tucking the watch into her flight suit.
As she circled up into the night sky, she spotted him standing under a streetlight, peering upward. She tipped her wings to him, and he waved.
The landlady knocked on her door. Taya rolled over in bed, pulling her covers under her chin.
"What?" she groaned.
"That clockwright is here to see you," Gwen said, her voice quivering with disapproval. "He says it's important."
Taya stared at the ceiling.
"What time is it?"
"Almost eleven. I told him we don't open the doors for groundlings after ten, but he insists, and he is an exalted, even if he's a freak."
"All right. I'm coming." She rolled out of bed, grabbing her slippers.
Gwen sat downstairs in the cloakroom, matching Cristof scowl for scowl. She outweighed him by a considerable amount and wasn't cowed by his castemark.
He broke their mutual glare when Taya walked in.
"It isn't dawn." Taya rubbed her face. "Maybe you need your watch back, so you can tell the time?"
"I need to talk to you."
"I was asleep!"
He turned to the landlady.
"May we have a moment in private, please?"
"Not in here," Gwen declared. "I don't care what my icarii do elsewhere, but this boarding house stays quiet after ten. If you want to talk, you can take your conversation outside."
"Taya—" he turned to her. "It's important."
"It's also freezing." She was already cold, wearing nothing but her red flannel nightgown and threadbare slippers. "And late."
"Here." He pulled off his greatcoat and held it out for her. "Just for a minute."
Taya took it, giving Gwen a resigned look.
"I already told you what I thought about him," Gwen said, darkly. "You can do better."
Cristof cast the woman a resentful look before opening the door.
"So, what is it?" Taya asked, shivering as they stepped out onto the porch. Cristof's coat was still warm from his body, but her feet felt like they'd been plunged into ice water.
"The lictors have issued a warrant for my arrest. The engineers confirmed that the bomb was in the clock."
"I thought you'd already gone through all that."
"It was just a suspicion, then. Now they have enough evidence to detain me for questioning. I spotted lictors staking out Alister's house when I returned, so I avoided them and tracked down Amcathra. He told me what happened and said if I was still around by the time he pulled on his boots, he'd have to arrest me." He rubbed his eyes, frowning. "Under any other circumstances I'd go to headquarters and answer their questions, but what if Alister really was writing a security bypass program?"
"It won't make any difference if the lictors get the proof or you do. Unless you're planning to cover up for him."
"No." He shook his head. "I wouldn't do that. But — maybe it's arrogance, but I won't believe Alister's guilty until I see the proof with my own two eyes. Accusing him without evidence would be a poor way to avenge his death. And… you said he was going to do the same thing for me."
"All right." Taya yawned. "Then nothing's changed, unless Amcathra's going to turn you in."
"He seemed to be having some trouble finding his boots. But something has changed. If you help me now, you'll be aiding a fugitive. I promised that you wouldn't lose your wings if you took me up to the Tower. I can't promise that anymore."
Taya frowned.
"If I refuse to take you up, will you turn yourself in?"
He met her eyes.
"No. I'll figure out some other way to get there."
"Why don't you just talk to the lictors and let them sort it out?"
"We're talking about a potential plot to take over Ondinium's Great Engine and a criminal who will apparently stop at nothing to keep his secret. I need to know how deeply my brother was involved, and who was involved with him. If there were other decaturs…."
Taya studied the determined set to his mouth. She'd seen that expression before, in mirrors. There was no arguing with it.
Lady.
She leaned on the porch railing.
Do I really want to risk my wings for this? Alister was a liar, Cristof's a pain, and Viera —
Viera's nice enough, but I don't owe her anything. In fact, she owes me.
But I like her, and I like her son, and they deserve to know the truth.
And I want to know the truth, too.
She closed her eyes, weighing her options.
"I'll find another way up," Cristof said, sounding downcast.
"Just shut up and let me think this through."
One short flight. Up and back. She could claim that she hadn't known Cristof was suspended. That she hadn't known there was a warrant out for his arrest.
He needed her. He'd helped her escape her attackers, he'd shared his lunch with her, and he'd let her borrow his handkerchief and watch and coat.
He was snappish and sharp-tongued, and he had envied his brother's flirtation with her.
She opened her eyes and glared at him. He looked irresolute, his thin face pinched by the cold.
"You're still a pain in my tailset, Cristof," she grumbled. "But I'll take you up and trust that Viera will bail me out of prison."
"She wouldn't let you down."
"Where are you going to go tonight?"
"I don't know. Does your landlady have any rooms to let?"
"You'd get a warmer reception from the lictors."
"I'll find a squat in Tertius, then," he said with resignation.
She eyed him. "Stay there. I'll be back in a minute." She ran back into the eyrie, waving to Gwen, and burst into Cassilta's room.
"Wha—?" Cassi rolled over in bed, waking up.
"It's me. Go back to sleep." Taya grabbed Cassi's purse and headed downstairs again.
Cristof was huddled in a corner of the porch when she got back, shivering in his thin cloth famulate's coat.
"Oh. Sorry." She pulled off his greatcoat and handed it to him. Then she rummaged through the purse. "Perfect. Sit down."
He wrapped the coat around himself and sat on the porch rail, watching her with wary curiosity. When she pulled out Cassi's small jars of cosmetics, his eyes lit up with understanding.
"I think this will do it," Taya said with satisfaction, choosing a color.
"This isn't your foundation, is it?" he asked as she dabbed a coppery base color over the blue waves on his cheeks.
"No. My friend Cassi's. Why?"
"It isn't your shade."
"So you're an expert on cosmetics, as well as a clockwright and a secret lictor? Are you living another secret life I should know about?"
He shook his head, and she tsked, dabbing at a splotch with her fingertip.
"I've had to cover my castemark before."
"Too bad. I know a dressmaker who'd love to have an exalted as a patron." She corked the bottle and opened a small pot of eye darkener. "Do you want to be cardinal or plebeian?"
"Plebeian. I'm going back to Tertius."
She leaned over him and drew a famulate castemark on his forehead.
"It's not perfect, but it'll do," she said, drawing back and assessing her work. "Don't reach up and smudge it."
"I won't." He grabbed her fingers, warming them a moment between his hands. "Thank you."
Taken off-guard by the gesture, Taya stared at him. Even half-sitting on the porch rail, Cristof's head was an inch or two higher than hers.
Gawky. Skinny. Crowlike.
Not such an awful guy, after all.
"That's what friends are for," she said, at last.
He didn't say anything, scrutinizing her with his hands curled around her fingers. Taya felt like some kind of machine he was trying to figure out and forced a laugh to dispel the tension.
"Although," she added, "this friendship ends if you keep waking me up in the middle of the night."
He released her, standing.
"I'll keep that in mind. Good-night, Taya Icarus."
"Good night."
Three hours later Gwen knocked on her door again. This time the vexed woman held out a message from the University.
Taya opened it, groaned, and shoved it under her pillow.
She'd deal with it tomorrow.