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."
"Like coming to the station today?"
"Right."
She looked up, searching for anger or resentment in the captain's features, but he just looked worn out.
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't important. I need to talk to Alister — to Decatur Forlore. It's, um, a private matter."
"A private matter."
"I need to ask him a few questions. I think he, well, his brother and I…. "her voice trailed off as she wondered what to say. If she brought up the theft, the captain would demand to know why it hadn't been reported yet. She could tell him Cristof was doing that now, on Secundus, but he'd probably make her wait until he could check it out, and then he'd take over the questioning.
Taya wanted to talk to Alister herself. They had more to discuss than the missing prototype engine.
"His brother. Cristof Forlore?"
"Yes."
"He defended you last night."
"Really?"
"He said you took him to the tower under orders — that you didn't know he was suspended." Scarios gazed at her from beneath hooded eyes. "Interesting thing is, when Alister Forlore started confessing, he defended you, too. He told us how you saved Exalted Octavus and her son, and that you only killed William to save his brother Cristof. He said if it wasn't for you, he and his brother would be dead at the bottom of the Engine Room. Made you sound like a real hero."
"That was… generous of him."
"I thought so. But he said lots of nice things about his brother, too, so maybe he's just a generous guy."
"For a killer."
"Exactly." The captain kept watching her. "I don't have any reason to keep you from talking to him. But there's gonna be a lictor nearby to listen in on the conversation. I don't like it when captives and captors get too chatty. Makes me wonder what I'm missing."
"The only thing you're missing is that Alister's a master manipulator." Taya met the captain's eyes. "He's being charming and generous because he knows he can't save his life by being rude. But he tried to shoot Cristof in the face, and he would have framed both of us with murder if he could have gotten away with it."
"I got the impression he liked you."
"He pretends to. He fooled me before I found out what kind of person he is. But he doesn't mean it. It's just the way he acts, throwing compliments around and trying to make everyone feel special."
Scarios grunted and pushed himself to his feet. "You'll have to be searched before you go in to talk to him. You want to see him in his cell or an interview room?"
"What's the difference?"
"If you talk to him in his cell, he won't mask up, but there won't be any lictors around to protect you if he decides to take you hostage. If you talk to him in an interview room, we'll put guards in with you, but he'll stay covered and mute."
"His cell, please. I don't want to try to communicate with him when he's behind a mask." She gazed at him curiously. "How do you do it?"
"Eventually we'll get him legally outcaste. In the meantime, we ask lots of yes or no questions. Last night he agreed to talk to his brother and let me listen in." Scarios gave her a tight smile. "I didn't get to see his face, but I got to hear his voice. Maybe he was trying to make me feel special. You think?"
"It wouldn't surprise me."
"I'm flattered. C'mon."
The "cell" where Alister was being held had an antechamber arrangement much like Rhodanthe's, leading into a parlor from which two more doors indicated other rooms. The room's furnishings included a desk, a table, several chairs, some bookshelves, and a small fireplace. Only the lack of windows suggested that it wasn't the best suite of a travelers’ inn.
Scarios waited until a female lictor searched Taya and pronounced her safe, then took his leave. The lictor, a silent woman with hard eyes, stopped at the antechamber and sat down. Taya walked through the curtained but doorless frame.
Alister was already on his feet, waiting for her.
"Taya. I was surprised when they told me you were coming." His smile was as warm as ever, although his green eyes flickered to her crutches. "I was afraid you were angry with me."
"I am, exalted." Taya wondered for a fleeting moment whether she should bow or not.
Good manners are always appropriate
Unable to bend on the crutches, she settled for pressing her palm to her forehead and inclining her head. "I'm here on business."
"Please, sit down. Those crutches can't be comfortable." He walked around the low tea table and pulled out a chair. Taya's neck prickled at his proximity, but he did no more than take her crutches as she sat and prop them up close to her.
He was wearing fresh robes, and his public robe and mask sat on a nearby chair, ready to be pulled on. His jewelry had been confiscated, though, leaving his hands and ears naked. His hair ornaments were gone, too, and with nobody to dress his long hair for him, he'd settled for tying it back with a scarlet ribbon.
She remembered wondering what he'd look like in a more casual setting, that night at Rhodanthe's. She'd imagined him looking like this on some lazy morning, perhaps over a leisurely breakfast.
Not in a cell.
"How's your leg?" he asked.
"Good enough. The doctor said it'll heal cleanly."
"I could have wrung that man's neck when I realized he'd shot you."
"Really." She wasn't impressed. "I need to talk to you about the prototype engine."
"Why?"
"It's part of a new case that's come up."
"One of Cristof's cases?"
"Maybe."
"I see." He inclined his head. "I'll tell you as much as I can, although some information about the engine is confidential."
"Is the prototype valuable?"
"Of course. All our engines are valuable, but especially the analyticals. They cost a great deal in parts and workmanship, and of course their reverse engineering value to another country would be inestimable."
"But this prototype is special?"
"It's a significant improvement over the other small engines we've built. The Great Engine is still superior, but that's hardly a fair comparison — we can build much more complicated mechanisms when we're working on that scale. It's bringing that level of functionality down to a human scale that's always been the challenge. Frankly, I don't think anybody will be able to replicate the Great Engine's complexity with smaller components, but this prototype brings us one step closer." Alister smiled at her. "Why are you asking me questions, instead of Cris? You aren't going to give up your wings to take a lictor's stripe, are you? Or perhaps you plan to give them up for a life of gears and springs?"
Taya shot him a sharp look.
"I'm not going to give up my wings at all. I'd be wearing them now, if it weren't for you."
"Good. I'll die happy, knowing that you're still my silver-winged hawk."
"Despite your best efforts."
"That's not fair. I never wanted to hurt you. If Cris hadn't dragged you into his investigation, you would never have been harmed at all." Alister raised an eyebrow. "And speaking of Cris, I couldn't help but notice a certain… tenderness… in the way he was treating you yesterday."
"That's none of your business."
"When one is facing imminent death, matters of family seem extremely important. It's all right. I approve. In fact, I'm jealous. I never thought my gearhead of an older brother would have enough spirit to steal a woman away from me. I used to say he had a clockwork heart."
"Cristof didn't steal me from you. I'm not anybody's to steal, and you were dead. Or you were supposed to be, anyway."
"If I'd known my death would throw you into each other's arms, I might have changed my plan."
"To something that didn't involve murder?"
Alister sighed. "Maybe."
"The prototype. Who else knows it exists?"
"Its existence isn't a secret. The details of its construction are, but anybody with an interest in AEs will have heard about the Council's experiments with a new model. Why? Are you going to tell me what happened?"
"Somebody stole it last night."
She was watching him closely, but all she saw on his face was honest astonishment.
"Stole it? How? When did you find out?"
"We ran into Lars about an hour ago, and he told us it was missing. He went into the office early this morning and saw that it was gone."
"The whole thing?" Alister looked stunned. "How could somebody steal an entire engine without anyone noticing?"
"That's what we're wondering. Was it as big as the other engines, the ones your programming team was working on?"
"Yes. It filled the entire room, with power cords running down to the steam engines. They must have dismantled it. Lady, I hope they had someone who knew what he was doing. You said Cris is on the case?"
"Not yet," Taya admitted. "He was suspended, but he's down on Secundus right now trying to argue his way back onto active duty."
"That's why you're here."
"Yes."
"Do you think I'm the thief?"
"No. You had access to the engine while you were free, so you could have taken it then, if you'd wanted to. And having it stolen now won't gain you anything, even if you could have arranged the theft in one day."
"Thank you, my hawk. You're right. I didn't have anything to do with it."
"So, who did?"
Alister clasped his hands in front of his face, gazing over his knuckles into the air.
"I don't know anything about the theft," he said at last. "But I have some very good guesses." He rested his green eyes on her. "And I'll pass them along to Cristof, if the Council agrees to change my sentence from execution to exile."
Taya shivered. For the first time she heard a raw edge to his voice, a hint of the dread he must be feeling as he contemplated his death.
"You know…" She stared at him. "Even if they agree to exile you, you'll be blinded and outcaste."
"I know. I was a witness at Neuillan's exile. But I'm not ready to face the Forge yet. As long as I'm alive, I can try to work off Caster's death. If I'm executed now, I'll face rebirth with his blood on my hands."
"So are you feeling regret, or just fear?"
"A little of both."
"They might not agree to make a deal. Murdering a decatur is a lot more serious than selling secrets to the Alzanans."
"I think I know who arranged the theft. And I have Neuillan's contact information; a list of all the Alzanan spies he talked to and a list of the passwords he used. It might not be accurate after a year, but it would give the lictors a head start on their investigation. The Alzanans must be behind this, even if they used an Ondinium citizen to carry it out."
"How did you get the list?"
"I found it in Neuillan's house. Cris and I were his executors. I didn't see any reason to give the information to the military."
"Does Cristof know about it?"
"He chose to handle the legal issues, rather than go through Neuillan's personal belongings. He's always been more comfortable with the intellectual than the emotional. Take that as a warning, if you like."
"Why didn't you destroy the list?"
"A wise man never destroys information."
"Neither does a crook, apparently."
"Please, Taya. Make this deal for me. I don't want the engine to fall into enemy hands. I'm sure we've already lost months of effort troubleshooting and calibrating it."
"Would it really make a difference if other countries got analytical engines of their own?"
"Not every country is governed as well as Ondinium, Taya. I know there are many people who think our trade restrictions are selfish, but the Council hasn't forgotten the lessons of the Last War."
Taya slowly nodded. Centuries ago the Last War had been brought to Ondinium's doorstep using the ondium boats and liquid fire the kingdom had been selling to other countries. Ondinium had won the war, but only after losing half its population and being burned to the ground. The social chaos that had followed had led to the fall of the monarchy, the metamorphosis of the ancient caste system, and years of political upheavals before the current republic was established.
Ever since then, Ondinium had refused to sell its metal and weaponry to other countries, and it strictly prohibited the manufacture of ondium craft. Every generation some young idealist pointed out how antiquated the icarus system was, and how much better it would be if armatures left a person's arms free and how much more efficient it would be to carry packages in an ondium-plated skiff. And in response, every generation an older and wiser politician reminded the idealist that it's impossible to wield a weapon when one's arms are encased in metal wings.
"You aren't convinced," Alister said, watching her.
"I guess I just don't understand why Lars was so upset that the engine was gone."
"I imagine he's afraid the team will be suspected of its theft."
"They were taken in for questioning after you were arrested."
"They didn't know anything about my plans."
"You're being very careful to clear everyone's reputation."
"I don't see any reason to drag anyone else to the headsman. Or to the blinding irons, as the case may be. I'm not a vengeful man. I only want what's best for Ondinium."
Taya let out a long breath. She didn't know how Alister could talk about his fate with such calm. She hoped that if she were ever in the same position, she'd be as brave.
"I'll see what I can do." She took her crutches and stood. "It might take a while."
"I'll be here," Alister said, with rueful humor. Taya nodded and limped out the curtained doorway, deep in thought.
After a quick stop at a mail station to send a note to Cassi, she headed back to the lictor's headquarters on Secundus.
Lars was sitting in the front room, huddled in a corner and looking as bear-like as ever. His glum expression brightened when she walked in, and he hurried to pull out a chair for her.
"He's in there. There was some shouting at first, but it's been quiet since then," the big man said, jerking his head toward the back.
"Are they doing anything about the missing engine?"
"The lieutenant sent out some lictors to secure the building and ask questions. I guess they'll be grilling the rest of the team and the engineering crew that worked on the engine. Did you talk to Alister?"
"He wants to make a deal."
"Then he knows something."
"He suspects something."
"Is he all right?"
Taya gave him a sympathetic look. Lars had a kind heart, and she could tell he still wasn't entirely convinced of his friend's guilt.
"He's worried about his sentence. But he's in good health and he has a comfortable cell."
"Benefits of being an exalted, I guess."
"Until he's thrown out of caste."
Lars fingered the dedicate's spiral over his left cheekbone, looking nervous at the thought. Taya swung her crutches around.
"I'm going to go interrupt," she said. "Wish me luck."
She explained her news to the desk sergeant, who went back to check with the lieutenant and then waved her through. Both Cristof and Lt. Amcathra fell silent when she entered.
"You spoke to Exalted Forlore and did not wait for us?" Amcathra demanded, his usually impassive face showing perceptible annoyance.
Taya made a show of tucking her crutch under one arm and pulling out Cristof's pocket watch. She opened it and examined its mother-of-pearl face.
"We talked to Lars almost an hour and a half ago, lieutenant, but you're still in here wrangling with this
Exalted Forlore. When did you plan to send somebody to question the other?"
Amcathra's pale blue eyes narrowed, but instead of answering, he waited. Knowing that Demicans could sit in silence for hours, Taya tucked the watch back into her pocket.
"Decatur Forlore says he had nothing to do with the theft," she reported, "but he may know who set it up. He also said that it could be an Alzanan plot. He has a list of Alzanan spy names and code words that he found in Decatur Neuillan's personal possessions last year that he's willing to hand over in exchange for a deal."
Cristof muttered under his breath.
"He'll tell the lictors everything he knows if the Council agrees to change his sentence from execution to exile," she finished.
"The decatur believes he can blackmail the Council?" Amcathra sounded offended at the thought of such effrontery.
"I guess he does."
"It's not an unreasonable demand." Cristof turned to the lieutenant. "Not if he can help us get the engine back in one piece."
"You are not without bias in this matter, exalted."
"That's true, but I also want to find the engine before they get it out of the city and damage it on the mountain trails. Put me on the case. Alister will work with me."
"I will send a message to the Council, asking for its decision."
"They could argue for days."
"I will impress upon the decaturs the need for haste."
"Janos!" Cristof leaned on the desk. "We don't have time for that!"
"I can neither speed nor slow the march of the sun across the sky, exalted," Amcathra observed. "Nor will putting you on this case convince your brother to reveal his secrets. He will keep them until he is promised his life. Your presence on the case cannot affect that outcome."
"But—"
"Come. You may accompany me while I search the engine room."
Cristof growled.
"What about Taya? She's working as my assistant while she's grounded."
"Is she?" The lieutenant gave them both a dispassionate look. "Wait outside for me. And tell Mr. Wycomb that he will come with us."
"Mr. Wycomb?" Taya looked puzzled.
"Lars," Cristof explained, holding the door open for her.
Lictors guarded the door of the Science and Technology Building, ignoring the abuse Isobel and Emelie were heaping upon them. Dark-bearded Victor, on the other hand, was standing to one side, gazing down the building's steps and across campus. He saw the small group approach and raised a hand.
"What's going on?" Lars asked, bounding up the stairs.
"It would be a straight walk from here to the university gates if they carried the engine out in crates," Victor observed. "But that would take dozens of men. On the other hand, a wagon couldn't be brought to the bottom of the stairs without going around Froshcourse."
Lars turned from him to Isobel. "Iz? What's going on?"
"They won't let us in."
Taya worked her way up the broad, shallow steps. Cristof paced himself, walking next to her. She appreciated his thoughtfulness; she knew he was impatient to reach the top.
Amcathra jogged up the steps past them.
"Is this the entire team?" he inquired of Lars. He looked at Victor. "Ah, Mr. Kiernan. I thought I recognized your name."
"Lieutenant," Victor greeted the lictor, looking uneasy.
"This is Isobel Vidoc and Emelie Wilkes," Lars said, introducing the two women. "They're on the team, too." He turned to Isobel. "Where's Kyle?"
She shrugged.
"I stopped at his flat and he wasn't there."
"Em?"
"I haven't seen him." The smaller woman frowned, giving the lictors a nervous glance. "What's going to happen now? Are we under arrest?"
"Vic? Any sign of Kyle?"
"The stripes already asked me about him." Victor scratched his beard. "I haven't seen him, either. That makes him suspect number one, doesn't it?"
"Kyle?" Lars recoiled. "Kyle's no thief!"
"I know that. But the stripes don't. And until he shows up…."
The programmers looked at each other, crestfallen.
"You're all suspects," Cristof informed them, as he and Taya reached the top of the stairs. "Lieutenant, why not have them accompany us, too? They know the area and the engine. They might spot something we'd miss."
"You will all walk behind me," the Demican directed, then turned and passed through the doors.
Black-robed students gathered to watch as the group walked through the hall. Lictors had been stationed at the top of the stairs down to the AE labs, and a warning chain had been strung across the head of the stairs with a lictor's seal dangling from it. More students leaned over the banister of the stairs above, watching as the chain was unhooked and the small procession headed down to the basement. Taya could hear them gossiping about Alister and speculating that the lictors were collecting evidence from the labs.
"It seems strange that the University is still in session," she murmured to take her mind off the increasing annoyance of negotiating stairs on crutches. "I feel like the whole city should be in an uproar."
"The Council may be shaken, but Ondinium remains untouched," Amcathra said, overhearing her. "It is the strength of the city. And the weakness."
"Why do you think it's a weakness?"
"I feel sometimes there is nobody in Ondinium who cannot be replaced. We are like the gears in one of Exalted Forlore's clocks. That is a strength, because the clock will keep running even after every gear inside it has been replaced. But it is a weakness because it is impossible to respect a man when one thinks of him as nothing more than a replaceable part. ‘We must have a dedicate here. Go, send a lictor there.’ A man's name and spirit become unimportant."
"Maybe that's why terrorists throw bombs," Taya suggested. "So people will remember their names."
"Yes, that is why terrorists throw bombs," Amcathra agreed. "They have not been taught to respect life. How can a man learn to respect life in a city of clockwork castes?"
"You're a philosopher, lieutenant." Taya reached the bottom of the stairs and leaned against a wall, rubbing her shoulders. "But a grim one."
"I do not understand how a philosopher in this city could be anything but grim." Amcathra paused in the hallway until the rest of the group joined them.
"'The hawk sees the meadows and streams that lie beyond this dark forest,'" Taya quoted, in Demican.
"'Let the sun shine upon the mountains; their peaks remain encased in ice, and my heart, also,'" Amcathra countered in the same language.
"Good one," Taya said with appreciation, reverting to Ondinium. "You win. I haven't read enough Demican poetry to compete. I just liked that line about the hawk."
"Perhaps an icarus, whose eyes are fixed upon the horizon, cannot be other than optimistic. Those of us who do not fly so high are not as fortunate." Lt. Amcathra saw that the rest of the group had gathered. He turned and began pacing down the hall, his blue eyes moving over the walls and floor like one of his hunter kin.
The programmers murmured as Lars pointed out the marks on the walls outside the prototype engine room. Isobel handed over her key when Amcathra stopped to inspect the door, and after a moment scrutinizing the door and frame, the lieutenant unlocked it.
Taya's first impression was of a large, empty room. But then she noticed the marks on the walls and snips of wire and small screws on the floor. Thick cables ran into the room through a hole in the wall and ended in a cascade of bare wires.
"We need light," Amcathra said.
"Just a minute." Lars hurried down the hall, then returned with an oil lamp from the other room. In a moment it was lit and handed over.
"Stay here," Amcathra ordered. He took his time circling the room, crouching often to inspect the floor before taking another step. Cristof squatted in the doorway, and Taya leaned on her crutches behind him. The rest of the programmers crammed close, trying to look over their shoulders.
"How much of the room did you search?" Cristof asked Lars.
"I didn't search it. All I had to do was glance inside to see that the engine was gone. Why?"
"If you left anything in the room or took anything with you, the lieutenant will want to know."
"Nah. I don't think I even stepped inside. Maybe one or two steps, because I was surprised. But that's it."
"They packed the engine in straw-filled crates," Amcathra said. "I see nails, splinters of wood, and wisps of straw. Is that safe for an engine, straw?"
Lars nodded. "Safe enough. Are there any signs of oil?"
"A few drops, yes."
"They probably wrapped the parts in oiled rags before packing them. That's what I would have done."
"The crates will be a fire risk," Amcathra observed.
The programmers all looked at each other.
"Could a good hound track the scent of the oil?" Cristof asked.
"They would have put the crates into a wagon outside," Victor said. "A dog would lose the scent, eventually."
"We will still try," Amcathra said. Suddenly he stopped and crouched, holding his lantern close to the floor.
Taya watched, fascinated, as he set the lantern a foot or two away and lay on his stomach, studying the ground. She'd never seen a grown man so careless of his dignity. On the other hand, she thought, if you took Janos Amcathra out of his lictor's uniform, wiped away his black stripe, and dressed him in a Demican hunter's furs and leathers, his behavior would seem absolutely in character. She wondered what kind of family he'd came from. He'd preserved much of his Demican heritage.
"What color is the hair of Mr. Deuse?"
"Brown," Lars said, after a moment. "Brown hair, blue eyes. About average height and weight."
Taya realized they were talking about Kyle.
"He had a key to this room?"
"Yeah."
"Lots of people have brown hair," Isobel protested, even though she, like Amcathra, was Demican blond. "Just because you find some brown hair doesn't mean Kyle stole the engine."
"Where was Mr. Deuse last night?"
"He left the station with the rest of us."
"Did any of you go home with him?"
A chorus of ‘no's.
Amcathra stood and began to search the room again, skirting the area he'd just inspected so intently.
"What did you find?" Taya asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. He shook his head and kept looking.
At last he walked back, waving everyone away from the door. He closed it and locked it.
"I will take your keys to this room, please," he said, holding out his hand. One by one, the programmers slid their keys from rings and cords and laid them on his palm. He dropped them all into his pocket with a metallic jingle.
"Exalted, icarus, please stay. The rest of you may leave. You will of course remain in Ondinium where we can find you if we must."
"What did you see in there?" Lars asked, repeating Taya's question.
"Clues." The lictor would say nothing more.
"Look, Taya, we'll be at the PT," the big man said, turning to her. "You'll tell us if you learn anything, won't you?"
"If I can." Taya leaned on her crutch and patted his arm, feeling like a doll next to him. "I'll try, I really will."
After the team members had left, throwing worried looks over their shoulders as they headed up the stairs, Cristof turned to Amcathra.
"Kyle helped us figure out what Alister's program was doing. He seemed like an honest man."
"I think Mr. Deuse may have been coerced into assisting the thieves," Amcathra said. "I saw blood and brown hair on the floor, as might come from a head wound."
Taya drew in a worried breath. "Do you think he's alive?"
"If they had killed him, I think they would have left his corpse locked in the room."
"Well, if he's been kidnapped, that would explain why nobody can find him." She wanted to run out and tell the rest of the team, but she knew Amcathra must have refrained from mentioning it in front of them for a reason.
"Lars said Kyle was one of the team members who'd know how to reconstruct the engine," Cristof added, his eyes narrowed behind their lenses. "Plus, he's the head of the programming team, now that Alister's in jail. He'd be a nice catch for the Alzanans."
"It does not need to be Alzanans."
"Who else who do something like this?" Cristof pulled off his glasses and began polishing them fiercely. "I'm going to call the thieves Alzanan until we learn otherwise. They waylaid Kyle and forced him to unlock the door; maybe even made him dismantle the engine."
"The amount of blood was significant. It is possible he protested at some point and was knocked unconscious."
Taya felt sick, imagining the pleasant young programmer sprawled in a pool of his own blood.
"Then they packed up the crates and carried them up the stairs and out. What was Victor saying about wagons?" Cristof looked at Taya.
"He said either the thieves would have to hand-carry the crates across campus to the gate or pull a wagon around on some kind of road… something-course…."
"Froshcourse. Right. It runs along the perimeter of campus for deliveries." Cristof turned to the lieutenant. "It's a long route, and it passes in front of the dormitories. One of the students may have heard a wagon go by late at night."
"I will have lictors speak to the students." Amcathra stood. "Let us examine the foot path to the gates."
Outside, Taya sat on an iron bench and watched the two men work. Her leg was starting to throb again, warning her that the painkillers were wearing off, and her shoulders ached from working the crutches. Sitting down was a relief.
This time Amcathra permitted Cristof to search with him. Both men bent over the path, Cristof constantly pushing his glasses back up as they slipped down his sharp nose. Taya grinned, trying to imagine him in a Demican hunter's furs. He wouldn't be very convincing. He still looked like a crow, bobbing along the path looking for something to eat.
Her grin faded as she considered Amcathra's speculations. Kyle had seemed like a nice man, intelligent and responsible. He'd been the one Clockwork Heart had chosen as Lars's best match. Well, Lars might have been irritated by the program's decision, but he seemed concerned enough now. He wouldn't be very happy when he found out that Kyle might have been kidnapped. But how could the thieves have taken Kyle out with them? Had they folded him into a crate or hidden him under a tarp? Pretended he was a drunken friend and let him sprawl against the driver?
"They must be storing the crates someplace until they can get them out of the city," she said, out loud. "And if they aren't hiding them on Secundus, they would have had to take them through one of the sector gates last night. The crates and Kyle, both."
"The sector gates are locked after midnight," Amcathra replied at once. "The theft could have occurred before then, but I think it would have been carried out much later, when nobody would be walking around the campus."
"So if they transported the crates to another sector, they either lied to a lictor to let them through late at night or waited and passed through this morning," Taya finished.
"It's unlikely they'd call attention to themselves by going through after lockdown. If I were a thief, I'd leave the sector the next day, probably a few hours after the gates had opened again," Cristof said. "Actually, breaking the load into several wagons, or a wagon and some handcarts, would be even smarter."
"It's still worth questioning the gate guards. They might have noticed Kyle, since he was hurt." Taya wanted to run off to interview the gate guards herself. She cursed the crutches that slowed her down.
"Where's the nearest cart gate?" Cristof asked.
"A few miles east." Amcathra turned to Cristof. "Go to the station. I want a tracking hound brought to the engine room and lictors questioning the students in the dormitories. I will inquire at the cart gates, starting at the nearest and proceeding west. You may rejoin me when your messages have been delivered."
Cristof gave the lictor a sour smile. "So, I'm trustworthy enough to run your errands but not investigate your crimes?"
Amcathra pulled a narrow black wallet out of his coat pocket and handed it over. Cristof flipped it open, then looked up.
"I thought you were going to wait for the captain's approval."
"This is a field decision. I will clear it with him later." Amcathra was as stone-faced as ever. "I recommend you do not speak to your brother without another lictor present, and if you do speak to him, do not promise him anything you cannot deliver."
"I understand." Cristof slid the wallet away. "Thank you, Janos."
"Why are you still here?"
Taya grinned at Cristof as they headed out the University gate. "Are those papers what I think they are?"
"My credentials. I'm back on the job." He sounded pleased, although he was clearly trying to hide it.
"He was going to give them back to you all along, wasn't he? Because you're friends."
"He's my supervisor, Taya. Not my friend."
"Men." Taya laughed. "So, what are we going to do now?"
He stopped, outside the University gates, and looked askance at her crutches.
"I need to deliver the lieutenant's messages and start investigating these leads. I'm going to be running all over the city. How do you feel?"
"Tired," she admitted. "And my leg's starting to hurt, but I'm not supposed to take any medicine for another half an hour."
"I'm sorry." He frowned. "Maybe you should rest for a few hours. It's not that I don't want your company, but you might hurt yourself trying to keep up with me."
"I'm not going to go stuff mail bags."
"They'll give you the day off, won't they?"
"I don't want to sit around the eyrie all day, either." Taya let her gaze climb up the side of the mountain, over stacks of houses and shops to the mansions of Primus. The stubborn part of her wanted to stay with Cristof, but the practical part of her knew that she'd only slow him down. "Do you think Viera's ready for visitors yet?"
"I'm sure she'd like to see you. But she's not very happy right now."
"Well, she wouldn't be. But I want to see her again."
"Should I look for you there?"
"I don't think I'll be staying long. I might go down to that bar Lars mentioned. Is there any reason I can't tell them about Kyle?"
"You'd better not. We don't have any proof that he's involved. That hair and blood could have come from a janitor or one of the engineering team. It's too early to tell."
"But—"
"Please, Taya. There's no sense frightening his friends if he's just off visiting his mother or spending the day with his girlfriend, is there?"
"Hmph." Taya wasn't so sure Kyle had a girlfriend, but she let it pass. "Okay, but if you haven't found anything by this evening…."
"I'll find you, and we'll talk about it."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Good." Taya leaned on her crutch and touched his face. "No matter how late."
He nodded, looking preoccupied. "Take a hack and charge it to me if you have to."
Taya sighed and dropped her hand. Whatever romantic stirrings Cristof had felt earlier that day had vanished in the excitement of the new case.
"What's wrong?" He blinked, focusing on her again.
"Nothing," she said, ruefully. "I'll see you later."
She spent two hours with Viera, which was longer than she'd expected to stay. Viera had welcomed her with relief and pressed her for all of the details of the previous day's adventures. As Cristof had warned, she was still furious with Alister.
"My family took him in when his parents died," Viera raged. "I looked up to him as though he were my own brother. And when I got married, I welcomed him into my house, fed him at my table — and he betrayed me!"
Taya nodded, watching the exalted pace back and forth across the parlor. She'd seen Viera take a dose of something medicinal, but it hadn't done much to calm her down.
"I don't blame you for being angry," she said. "He betrayed a lot of people."
At last Viera dropped back onto her sofa, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.
"I wish he'd died with Caster," she said at last. "It would have been easier if they'd both been victims. Finding out he killed my husband… it's like losing him all over again."
Taya didn't ask which ‘him’ she meant. Instead, she pushed out of her chair and limped over to sit next to Viera.
"I wish I could help. I'm sorry I've brought so much pain to you."
Viera shook her head, sighing.
"It's not your fault. I'm glad Alister was caught. I hate it, but I'm glad for it."
Taya nodded, understanding.
"You can't stay away," Viera added. "I've already lost too many people."
"As long as you want me to keep visiting, I will," Taya promised.
She left some time later, sobered and depressed. What would have happened if she'd agreed to Alister's ruse and pretended he'd survived the explosion? Viera and Cristof both would be happier, and Alister wouldn't be under a sentence of death. But no. She thrust the thought away. One way or the other, the lie would have come out and destroyed them. It wouldn't have been possible to keep the secret forever, and it would have made her an accomplice to his crimes.
"Taya!"
She looked up and saw Cassi sitting on top of a hack, her ondium wings bright in the afternoon sun. Taya limped across the street and saw her friend had found Gregor and Bolt.
Cassi hopped down and gave her a quick hug, careful not to jab her with the armature's ondium keel.
"I got your note," she said. "Took me a while to find you, though. I ran into your exalted and he told me you were either up here or at some punch-jockey bar. He told me to make sure you were staying off your leg, so I rounded up your favorite coach."
"Thanks." Taya turned to Gregor. "Can I put you on retainer for a day or two?"
"Of course." The coachman smiled.
"I appreciate it. If I don't have enough money with me—"
"We'll settle up later, then." Gregor slid from his seat and opened up the hack's doors, letting the folding steps clatter down to the cobblestones.
"I asked Pyke to get your armature," Cassi said. "His uncle works in the repair shop, so he's got a better chance of nicking it than I do. He said he'd leave it in the eyrie for you."
"Thanks. I hate these crutches."
"No flying, though," Cassi warned her. "If you rip out your stitches, you're going to have an awful scar."
"I'm going to have an awful scar, anyway." Taya sat on the hack's steps, making the coach rock, and set her crutches on the street. "But I don't plan to fly. I just need to get lighter before these things put permanent bruises under my arms."
"Good idea. But listen. I found Exalted Forlore down at one of the gates, and he bought me a cup of tea. I thought he was just going to thank me for yesterday, but as soon as we sat down, he started asking questions." Cassi grinned, squatting in the road next to the steps. "He looked like he was in a hurry, but I think he couldn't resist the chance to investigate you."
"Me?"
"Uh-huh. He grilled me for ten minutes, fidgeting constantly, and then he shot out the door without even saying goodbye. Do you like him?"
"What do you mean, he grilled you? What did he want to know?"
"Oh, the usual. What kind of flowers do you like, how many boyfriends have you had, what's your favorite color, how many boyfriends have you had, what kind of jewelry do you like, how many boyfriends have you had…."
Taya groaned, covering her face with her hands.
"I think he's prude," Cassi concluded, sounding cheerful. "He looks like a prude."
"He's not a prude! Well, maybe he is. What did you tell him?"
"That you like irises, you look good in blue, and you hardly wear any jewelry at all."
Taya dropped her hands and swatted her friend across the head.
"The boyfriends! What did you tell him about the boyfriends?"
Cassi laughed.
"I told him every man in the eyrie adores you and it wasn't any of his business how many boyfriends you've had, because if he doesn't respect you for who you are now, he doesn't deserve to have you."
Taya stared down at her friend, then let out a long breath.
"I love you."
"I know." Cassi sounded smug. "And you better remember that answer if anyone ever asks you about me."
"I will," Taya promised, fervently.
"So, do you like him?"
"He used to be kind of a pain, but…."
"That's a ‘yes.’"
"That's a ‘there's hope.’ We haven't had much quiet time together, and I'm worried about how he's going to handle his brother being sentenced. He's the kind of man who'd rather pull away than open up."
"Aren't they all." Cassi reached up and patted her arm. "Hey, no worries. Third time's the charm, right?"
Taya made a face.
"I hope so. You hated the last two guys I was serious about. What do you think about Cris?"
Cassi shrugged, her silver wings rippling.
"He's smart. Intense. Stressed."
Taya nodded.
"Not ugly," her friend continued, "but not as cute as the other two. That's probably a good thing. He won't count on his looks to get him what he wants."
"I don't think he expects to get anything the easy way."
"Probably comes from living out of caste. I have to admit, seeing his marks out in the open like that is pretty creepy."
"He said he's not going to put a mask back on again."
"That'd be better for you. And, you know, it's a good sign that he was asking about your boyfriends. If all he wanted was a mistress, he wouldn't care, right?"
"You think so?" Taya looked hopefully at her friend.
"Your friend's right, she is," Gregor said. Both women jumped, looking up at him with startled indignation. The coachman looked apologetic. "I'd no intention of eavesdropping but, you know, there ain't a man in the world cares about a woman's past until he's thinking of her in his future. That's when a man starts to muse over reputation and reliability, now, ain't it?"
"So you've got nothing to worry about," Cassi assured Taya. "If I were him, I'd be more worried about my own reputation. The guy's an outcaste clockmaker with two murderers in the family. He's going to have to be one awfully sweet boyfriend to be worth your time."
"He's working on it," Taya said, with a half-smile.
"He'd better be."
"Anyway, it's too early to be sure of anything." Taya picked up her crutches. Gregor offered his hand, steadying her as she stood.
"As long as you're not settling for second best."
"That would have been Alister."
"Are you ready to go, then, icarus?" Gregor asked. Taya collected her thoughts.
"Yes. Do you know the lictor hospital on Secundus? A few blocks from headquarters?"
"I know of a hospital there — whether it belongs to the lictors, I've no idea, do I?"
"Let's go. Take off your armature, Cassi. I want to talk to you on the way over."
"I'm supposed to be working." Cassi glanced up toward the docking cliffs, then shrugged. "I guess they won't miss me for a few more minutes."
"I think you and Pyke might be able to help the lictors."
"Really?" Cassi began unbuckling straps. "Do they know you're asking?"
"Well, not yet. But I'll tell Cristof tonight."
"Great. We'll all have reprimands in our files by the time this is over."
They maneuvered Cassi's wings into the hack with some effort and contorted themselves around the unwieldy armature as the coach rattled down to Secundus. Taya filled Cassi in about the stolen analytical engine and the missing programmer.
"Are you sure this doesn't have anything to do with Alister Forlore? I mean, it's a pretty big coincidence, if you ask me. Secret programs, analytical engines…."
"What I think is that this theft has been planned for a long time, and the thieves took advantage of the confusion around Alister's arrest to make their move."
"I guess that's possible." Cassi frowned. "So, what can Pyke and I do?"
"Keep your eyes open for any wagon with lots of crates in it that might be moving around at an odd time of the day, or any activity around buildings that might usually be empty. The lictors can only see everything sector by sector, but icarii see the whole city. If we keep an eye out—"
"You mean, if Pyke and I keep an eye out. You're supposed to keep your feet on the ground."
"You know what I mean."
"Won't they already have military icarii looking around?"
"Sure, but the military don't know the city the way we do."
"So if we see something suspicious, alert the authorities."
"Right. And Pyke's got all his spooky conspiracy contacts, right? Maybe he can get something from them."
"Maybe." Cassi drew the word out. "Okay, I'll ask around."
"Except nobody can be told that an engine's missing. Not until the lictors release the information."
"No problem."
The coach slowed and pulled over. Taya looked out and saw that they were in front of the same hospital she'd visited with Lt. Amcathra, a few days before.
"You'll tell Pyke?"
"Sure." They pulled Cassi's armature out, and Cassi buckled back in. "I'll look for you at that punch-jockey bar later on?"
"Could you bring my armature with you? Just in case I don't make it back to the eyrie?"
"If Pyke can get it out of the shop." Cassi pulled on her flight gloves. "You be careful, okay? Don't let anyone else shoot at you."
Taya waved as Cassi left, then asked Gregor to wait for her as she limped into the hospital.
A nurse directed her to the same hospital room, but this time the Demican was sitting up in a chair and playing cards with his lictor guard.
"Excuse me," Taya said, standing in the doorway. "May I come in?"
The lictor frowned, setting down her cards, as the Demican regarded her crutches with open curiosity.
"The little warrior has met her match?" he asked, not unkindly, in Demican.
"The man who shot me is dead," Taya replied in Demican. She wasn't happy about it, but it was the response that would most impress him. As she expected, he laughed with appreciation.
"Good. That is the best fate for a man who would use a gun on his prey."
"I am glad to see you are healing," she continued, studying him.
"It seems my spirit will not be visiting you on Darkday."
"Excuse me," the lictor said with annoyance, "but who are you?"
"I'm Taya Icarus," Taya replied, dropping into Ondinium again. "I was responsible for putting this man into the hospital, and I wanted to see how he was doing."
"Taya Icarus." The lictor's voice was cool. "So I guess this man was the lucky one, huh?"
"Yeah." Taya winced, then turned to the Demican and began to speak in his language again. "The two Alzanans you were working with — did they ever mention anything about stealing one of the city's metal brains?" It was the closest Demican came to ‘analytical engine.'
"They talked about stealing many things. Your wings, ‘punch cards’" — he used the Ondinium words, so heavily accented they were almost meaningless—"people, metal brains, weapons. I should have known better than to work with carrion birds."
"Did they talk to anyone else about their plans?"
"Other Alzanans." The Demican shrugged. "Have you looked for the tavern with the red door yet?"
Taya chewed on her lip. Had Amcathra followed up that lead? Maybe, but the wireferry bombing happened right afterward, and it would make sense if less important cases had been shoved aside for the investigation.
"Icarus, unless you have clearance to talk to this prisoner, you should leave," the lictor said, giving her an acrimonious look.
"Can you tell me anything else about them?" Taya asked quickly, in Demican.
"I think they found somebody to sell them the weapons they wanted. Bombs. They were very pleased." The Demican shrugged. "Bombs are no better than guns. They are both cowardly ways to kill."
The lictor was standing, one hand dropping to the pistol at her belt. Taya hopped backward on her crutches.
"I agree," she said, in Demican, then added in Ondinium, "I'm leaving, I'm leaving."
"What was that about?" the woman asked, her expression full of suspicion.
"Spirits, scavengers, and guns." Taya glanced at the woman's weapon. "Demicans think firearms are a coward's weapon."
"I don't give a damn what Demicans think."
"No reason why you should." Taya nodded to the prisoner, then limped out, feeling the back of her neck crawl under the lictor's glare.
Gregor helped her back into the coach.
"Do you know of a bar with a red door in Slagside?" Taya asked, setting her crutches by her. Gregor leaned in the coach door, frowning.
"Slagside, is it? There ain't much call for hacks down there, even where the roads would be wide enough for one. You've no desire to go there, now, do you?"
"Actually, I do." Taya sighed. "Do you know anyone else who's familiar with Slagside?"
"No, not a one." Gregor shrugged. "People who pass their time in Slagside ain't people I'd care to count as friends. Smugglers, thieves, and cutthroats all."
"Surely not all of them."
"Enough of ‘em for it to be a bad place for an outsider to visit. A pretty girl on crutches, especially, don't you think?"
"How about the Pickled Thalassonaut?"
"The only danger you'll be facing there is being bored to death," Gregor said, chuckling. "Be that our next stop, then?"
"If you don't mind. And I'll pay for your meal there, too, because I'll probably be there a while."
"Fine with me. Bolt and I could use a rest, the two of us could." Gregor closed the door and climbed back to the driver's seat.