Aubrey considered whether that was an invitation. It was possible, but assuming such would be most gauche, and asking if he could come would sound even more gauche. Since he had no desire to head a list of Great Moments in Gaucherie, he stayed mum.
Caroline gazed at him for a moment from the far side of the factory floor, past the dozen or so Enlightened Ones who were carefully balancing large crates between them on their way downstairs, past the bookbinding paraphernalia, past the dust and neglect, and he saw her face as clearly as if he were standing next to her. She smiled. ‘Will you come with me?’
28
On their previous visit to Divodorum, they had laid out the antenna by stretching it in an array from parapet to parapet, criss-crossing the roof. It couldn’t be seen from the yard below, let alone the street, but it made the roof a difficult place to traverse.
‘All is in order,’ Caroline murmured as she walked along the first stretch of wire, trailing a delicate hand near, but not touching, the wire.
‘You do fine work,’ Aubrey said as he followed her. The tarred roof of the quondam factory was flat, at least in theory, and it provided a fine outlook over Divodorum, where the familiar sights of the university and the fortress were obvious, even in the gathering darkness.
He stopped and put a hand to his eyes, the better to see. That tower near the fortress was new. Higher than the guard towers, it looked spindly and makeshift – and was it actually within the walls of the fortress itself?
‘It’s important work.’ Caroline reached the end of the roof. She ducked under the next wire with one supple movement, then began to track back the other way. ‘We must get your information back to the Directorate.’
‘Of course.’ Aubrey took a last look at the mysterious tower and joined her. Caroline was a slim shadow in the darkness ahead of him, but unmistakable nonetheless. In fact, he was sure he could pick her form out in any ‘Spot the Silhouette’ competition. The thought made his collar hot and tight and he nearly missed Caroline reaching the end, ducking and making her way back to where he stood.
A roar came from the north-west, a heavy pounding that brought them up short and held them unmoving for a minute or two. When it stopped, he could make out Caroline’s eyes in the darkness. They were solemn. ‘Gallian or Holmlandish?’ she asked.
‘Holmlandish, I’d say. They’re the only ones with those twelve-inch guns.’
Caroline glanced back at the source of the barrage.
‘Nine-hundred-pound shells,’ Aubrey added. ‘Nasty.’
‘You can tell that from the sound?’
‘Not exactly. Hugo had some documents about what the Holmlanders are hauling up to break the lines. I think they’re sending the Gallians a few goodnight wishes.’
Caroline paused for a moment, then turned her head toward the north-west. ‘You’re sure they’ll come in this direction?’
‘If they do, they’ll punch right into the heart of Gallia.’
Caroline didn’t say anything for a while. A breeze stole through the night and ruffled the hair at the back of her neck. In a movement so artless and unconscious that Aubrey nearly wept, she caught an errant lock and twisted it to and fro for a moment.
‘We don’t want that,’ she said finally, briskly. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘Get some advice from those who should know best,’ he said. ‘Is the antenna in good shape?’
‘It’s acceptable.’ She sighed and stretched. ‘From the sounds of it, I may be in for a long night.’
29
Caroline Hepworth with dark circles under her eyes, Aubrey decided as he watched her slowly mount the stairs from the basement in the pre-dawn light, was still a delight. He fumbled with the coffee pot, eager to make sure that her mug was full and hot. ‘Here.’
‘Just what I need – my ninth coffee for the night.’
Aubrey bit his tongue. It was her tenth and it wasn’t actually night any more. He could make out the stacks of timber and discarded ironwork in the yard, if dimly, but he was starting to understand that correcting such things wasn’t important. ‘Did a response come through at all?’
Caroline sat at the table and inhaled from her coffee, closing her eyes for a moment. ‘Interference.’ She made a face. Lovely though it was, Aubrey accepted that it was her version of a grimace of disapproval. ‘The Holmlanders have found a way to distort messages. We had to change frequencies often, randomly, but we finally managed to communicate.’
‘We have orders?’
‘We do.’
Aubrey couldn’t help himself. ‘Was there anything about me?’
‘I wouldn’t know, would I? You’re the decoder.’
‘Really? You know how to use the machine as well as I do.’
‘I left most of the work to you. I only ran the first few, to make sure they were coming through properly.’
‘And was I mentioned?’
‘Only inasmuch as you were named in the orders. It was as if you hadn’t done anything unusual, haring off the way you did.’
Aubrey’s estimation of the wiles of Commanders Craddock and Tallis, already significant, rose again. He wondered what it would take to faze them.
‘They prize initiative,’ he said and he went to pour himself a coffee. Before he could, however, the floor and walls of the factory shook, and dust trickled from overhead. In the distance, an explosion sounded – a deep, frightening thump quite unlike the artillery barrage of the night before.
He was on his feet in an instant, but he wasn’t quick enough to beat Caroline to the front door. She clung to the frame with one hand and pointed to the north with the other. ‘There!’
Near the fortress, a pillar of flame rose to the heavens. Overhead, banking away from the site of the explosion, was a single airship. It was a sleek model, smaller than the usual giant dirigibles, and it was moving fast. He braced himself for further explosions but either the craft was having trouble with its bomb delivery or it had discharged its payload.
The fiery pillar was subsiding, but Aubrey didn’t like the look of it. The way the dense black smoke wrapped around it and the streaks of unsettling green amid the flames made it look unhealthy. He couldn’t feel anything, not at this distance, but he was sure that if he was nearer he’d be able to taste the magic.
A sleepy-looking George joined them, his sandy hair in disarray. ‘Good Lord,’ he said. ‘Is that what Divodorum has been putting up with since we left?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Aubrey said. ‘If this sort of thing had been regularly falling on the city, I’m not sure that we would have found anything when we came back.’
Madame Zelinka and von Stralick came down the stairs. Von Stralick looked well and remarkably spruce in the clean clothes he’d found in the basement store room. ‘This is not good.’ Madame Zelinka was grim. ‘From the roof, we could see that the bomb landed near the river.’
‘Not the fortress?’ Aubrey said.
‘Not far from it. They missed? Were aiming for something else? Who can tell?’
‘The explosion had something uncanny about it,’ Aubrey said. The combination of magic and aeronautical engineering was a worrying development.
‘We should investigate,’ von Stralick said.
‘I agree.’ Caroline put her coffee mug on the table and rose. ‘Now would be best, I’d say.’
‘It would,’ Aubrey said, and he took his courage in his hands, ‘but you need to stay here and get some sleep. You’ve been up all night.’
Caroline looked at him evenly. ‘As have you.’
‘I slept while you were busy. I even managed a bath and to find a new uniform. I’m more rested than you are.’
Caroline faced him squarely, obviously tired but equally obviously not willing to admit it. George and von Stralick looked uncomfortable. Madame Zelinka simply shrugged. ‘I shall ready my people.’
Von Stralick, full of tact on this occasion, jumped to agree. ‘Excellent idea. I shall assist you.’