The process wasn’t a straightforward one, it seemed. They may have some time.
Movement caught his eye. Aubrey looked up and he nearly leaped to his feet. George was climbing through the rafters, negotiating his way through the chains and cables like an arboreal ape through the vines of a jungle.
Aubrey clenched his jaw so tightly that his teeth hurt. Those electrical cables looked well enough insulated, but if George even brushed a bare wire while he was touching just about anything else, he’d be doomed.
Caroline saw him looking up and followed his gaze. Her eyes widened, then she took our her pistol. For a bizarre moment, Aubrey thought she was offering to shoot George, but then he understood that she was suggesting a shot at the golem machine – or the operator.
Aubrey was pulled between choices and, as had been his recent custom, he touched the Beccaria Cage to help him think – but in the gesture he bumped the small bottle of ink in his appurtenances vest.
The idea bloomed even as he thought of it. He leaned close to Caroline. ‘Do you have any paper?’
She raised an eyebrow and whispered back. ‘Where would I keep paper?’
‘Wherever you keep your pistol.’
She shook her head, but carefully reached up onto the bench. ‘Here.’
It was good quality foolscap, obviously meant for notetaking. Aubrey signalled his grateful thanks and then set about folding it. With a few quick movements, he had just the sort of paper glider he wanted.
Caroline watched silently as Aubrey scrabbled for a shard of the shattered glassware on the floor. With caution, he ground it under the heel of his boot, then scooped up a teaspoonful – wincing as the dust cut his fingertips – and deposited it in the folds of the paper aircraft.
Then he popped his head up. ‘Over here!’ he yelled and he launched the paper glider.
The machine operator straightened and, his goggles catching the light, he peered in their direction – which is exactly what Aubrey wanted. He rattled out a spell which used the Law of Attraction. The paper glider, which had been veering wildly, suddenly changed direction as the glass embedded in it was strongly attracted to the glass in the man’s goggles, thanks to Aubrey’s calculations. As the glass tugged at the paper, the glider lost its shape, unfolding and fluttering through the air before it struck the bewildered man and wrapped around his head.
With an oath he dropped his shovel and staggered around, clumsily trying to tear the clinging paper from his face. Aubrey stood and, for good measure, uncapped the bottle of ink and chanted a variation a spell based on the Law of Propensity. The ink leaped from the bottle and flew straight at the flailing man and his paper-wrapped head, Aubrey having stimulated the ink’s natural tendency to bond with paper.
The man let out a wild shout as his vision, which must have been quite obscured by the paper, was now blackened by the spreading ink.
Then Caroline appeared in front of the blinded man. With a graceful movement, she snapped the heel of her hand up under his chin. He toppled like a tree.
Aubrey hurried to her side. She looked at him, wide-eyed. ‘I didn’t like the sound his head made when it hit the floor.’
Aubrey hadn’t either, but he liked the shape of the back of the man’s head even less, especially its flattened look.
A huge thump made them both whirl, only to see George landing on top of a crate. He eased himself down to the floor and dusted his hands together, looking disappointed. ‘A few more minutes and I would have had him.’
‘I’m sure you would have,’ Aubrey said. He knew he’d acted hastily in the end, but he hadn’t wanted George to do anything dangerous. He smiled ruefully when he realised that they were all doing dangerous things all too often. Still, if he could reduce the risk for his friends by taking more on himself, he was willing to do that. He owed them.
Aubrey went to the golem-making machine. Three doors, two of which they’d already seen. The third then, logically, should...
He took the handle and heaved. Another long drawer slid out on metal bearings. It was identical to the middle drawer, except this one was occupied.
‘Is he all right?’ George said.
Prince Albert lay in the cold, hard confines of the drawer. His eyes were closed, his skin was waxy. He was naked.
‘I dearly hope so,’ Aubrey said and the groan that came from the drawer was the most rewarding sound Aubrey had heard for some time.
The Prince blinked, then opened his eyes. ‘Aubrey?’
‘Bertie,’ Aubrey said. ‘Easy now. Don’t make any sudden moves.’
‘Your highness,’ George said, ‘what do you remember?’
‘Remember?’ He shivered. ‘Rather chilly here, isn’t it.’ He lifted his head and stared. ‘Good Lord. Where are my clothes?’
Aubrey and George struggled to help the Prince out of the drawer until Caroline came to their aid. George coughed. ‘We’re fine. Really. Perhaps you should see to that other fellow.’
‘He’s dead.’ Caroline faltered, but gathered herself and went on. ‘And don’t be such a prude, George. I’ve seen more life models while Mother has been painting than you’ve had hot dinners.’
Aubrey was startled by this, but concentrated on helping the Prince to the bench where Caroline and he had found the royal clothes. It was only a few yards, but by the time they’d reached it the Prince was already insisting that he was strong enough to walk by himself, really.
To give the Prince some privacy – although once he’d gathered himself he’d behaved as if being naked in a laboratory was an everyday matter – they went to the unmoving body of the machine operator.
‘He’s not dead.’ Aubrey squatted alongside the unmoving operator.
‘He must be,’ Caroline said. She had her arms crossed on her chest, but the way she moved her mouth told Aubrey she wasn’t unaffected by what had happened. She was unwilling to look steadily at the unfortunate, either, glancing at him and then looking away. ‘His head’s crushed. He’s not breathing.’
Aubrey squinted and touched the man just behind his ear. ‘I don’t think he ever breathed. Not properly.’
He lifted an inert leg. When he let it drop it cracked on the stone floor.
Caroline jerked her gaze back and shuddered. ‘What did you say?’
Aubrey pointed. ‘His foot just fell off.’
George nudged it with the toe of his boot. ‘It’s hard.’
‘A golem to tend a golem-making machine.’
‘It’s a golem?’ Caroline said softly. She swallowed, hard.
‘A masterly creation.’ It was more than that. It was the most human-like golem Aubrey had ever seen. Dr Tremaine’s craft, already great, had grown even more potent.
Aubrey tilted his head and peered at the machine, wondering how it worked. No golem could wield magic – human consciousness was required to work the magical power wrested from the universe – so the machine must have spells embedded in it. Such an extraordinary blending of machinery and magic could have come from only one man.
Again, Aubrey itched with the feeling of Dr Tremaine’s presence. He shook it off with difficulty and busied himself with stripping off the creature’s goggles.
It had the appearance of a well-built man in his fifties – clean shaven, heavy features, dark blond hair – but the face was rapidly cracking like poorly glazed porcelain.
‘Anyone you recognise?’ Aubrey said.
‘That’s Stern,’ the Prince said. He’d come up behind them unnoticed during their inspection. ‘Used to be the Holmland ambassador to Albion. He was recalled a few months ago because he was too sympathetic to us.’
Aubrey had just begun feeling pleased at having foiled a plot to replace Prince Albert, but the business at hand had suddenly grown murkier. ‘I don’t think he’s sympathetic any more.’