Tin Fingers: Book 2 in the Arachnodactyl Series Read online

  Perhaps Rose had been right.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After a few minutes, Nurse Luca returned with bread and butter and a slight wedge of sausage pie. Rather than push his luck, Ikey refrained from asking for a pudding. Instead, he thanked her for the food as he took the plate from her and stared at it after he placed it on his lap. Hunger gnawed at him, roiled his stomach and sent it gurgling. Yet, as he replayed Rolfe’s concerns in his mind, his stomach turned somersaults.

  As Nurse Luca made to leave, Ikey asked if she had children, how long she’d worked at Marlhewn, would she play cribbage or something with him. She extracted herself from Ikey’s attention by drawing a few of the privacy curtains on aluminum frames around his bed in order to partition him off from the rest of the empty ward.

  Ikey picked at the food and chased a few bites with swallows of water. It did taste incredible, amazing compared to what he had been eating since his arrival. If he had his arm with him, he’d wrap a few morsels up, tuck them into the recesses in his arm, and smuggle them out to share with David and Gavril.

  Ikey sighed and lay back in bed. His stomach gurgled.

  To escape Marlhewn, he’d have to create a diversion in the bunk hall. Something to draw the attention of both watchmen as well as the mechanical asses. If he fixed a few augmentations for the others, he might be able to arrange for an appropriate diversion. Once everyone was occupied, he could slip out of the hall with David, and…

  A terse breath passed over Ikey’s lips. They would have to run down to solitary. Surely they would encounter others, either men or mechanical asses. They might be able to outrun the asses, but not with Gavril in tow. If he took a coughing fit, he would give them away. Slow them down as the man stumbled along, gasping for air. His coughing would rouse anyone in the halls. The Alligator himself could follow along, picking up their trail as if Gavril’s coughing was a leaving of bread crumbs.

  Dare he suggest they leave Gavril behind? Rose made a certain amount of sense. Two of them was better than none of them.

  A whistle blew in the distance. A few minutes later, the infirmary doors opened with a hush of air. Boots tramped across the floor in a single file, led by a heavier set of iron feet.

  An eye appeared at the crack between two of the curtains, and then a flash of teeth. Tin-plated fingers danced back and forth as David waved.

  With a weak smile, Ikey returned the wave as if he had been caught thinking that Gavril ought to be left behind.

  Rolfe cleared his throat somewhere behind David. “I will see you leave my patients be.”

  David turned away. Ikey caught a glimpse of the mop of the man’s hair, then the crack returned to its view of the wall at the other end of the hall, interrupted briefly as someone walked past.

  Ikey picked up a bite of pie, looked at it a moment, then set it aside. He sank lower into his bed.

  He’d have to think of a way to get Gavril out as well. But they’d have to do it soon, before anything else happened. Or before Rolfe decided to pursue his findings.

  For the rest of the day, Ikey schemed and came up with nothing. The best he could suggest was knocking Gavril unconscious, then carrying the man out of the building. It seemed severe, but it would keep him from coughing.

  Leaving him behind remained the best option.

  At periods during the next day, Nurse Luca came by and helped Ikey out of bed. She held his arm as he ambled around the infirmary until he demonstrated that he could support himself. Nurse Luca commented on how well he did. Most men who came back from a week in solitary required several days of attention before being sent back to work.

  “I don’t care for sitting around,” Ikey had said. He could imagine that most men, unlike him, had no incentive to get back.

  After that evening’s examinations, Rolfe brought Ikey his yoke and arm. The doctor and nurse outfitted Ikey once again, and after Ikey demonstrated that he had full use of the arm, Rolfe discharged him to an automaton who marched him back to the bunk hall. As Ikey walked along with the creature’s hand clamped on his shoulder, his stomach churned and threatened to return the apple, cheese, and scrap of beef he had eaten for dinner. The thought of telling David that he believed Gavril should remain behind weighed on him. He was no more eager to be in that position than he was to return to a diet of watery gruel. But every moment he delayed, that was one more moment in which his tunnel might be discovered.

  Ikey opened the door to the bunk hall. The automaton propelled him through before letting go of his shoulder. The night watchmen returned to their slouches and waved Ikey away. He glanced about. A few men shucked off the last of their uniforms. None of the men stood as tall as Cross.

  As Ikey approached his bunk, David sat up. He grinned and tapped Gavril on the shoulder. “Look who’s back from holiday.”

  Gavril sat up and gave the same stone expression he always wore.

  Ikey’s heart sank and his throat tightened at the sight of two men on the bunk above, neither of which was small enough to be Philip. Ikey recalled the sight of David standing before the stamping machine, staring at Gavril on the floor as Philip barreled toward him. Threads of anger flickered over Ikey’s muscles. He closed his eye and David was still there on the bunk, sitting up, staring back at him. It wasn’t David’s fault. Had Ikey’s hand responded to his command, he could have clutched Philip and stopped him. It was no one’s fault but his own.

  “You all right?” David asked.

  Ikey took a deep breath and nodded. He glanced at the bunk above David and Gavril, then turned around to find a bunk that wasn’t double-occupied already.

  David slipped out of his bunk, stood, and glared at the bunk’s occupants. “Go sleep somewhere else.”

  The man closest to David snorted. “This is my bunk. You go sleep somewhere else.”

  Gavril stood up behind David. He cracked the knuckles in his fist.

  After a moment, the man mumbled something under his breath and slid out of the bunk. He fished his uniform out of the basket, and after tucking it under his arm, made off down the aisle, his bare feet padding against the wood planks.

  David nodded to the other man in the bunk. “You, too.”

  “What?”

  “Go.”

  “This ain’t a blasted hotel—“

  David clamped his hands on the edge of the bunk and leaned forward. “Move on.”

  The other man lifted himself onto his elbow. “Piss off, you bloody bugger. I ain’t scared of you. I’m sleeping here tonight, and you can threaten me till the sun comes up, but you’ll be the one losing sleep.”

  “Fine,” David said. He pushed himself back away from the bunk. “Stay. But you’ll be sharing the bunk with him.” He hitched his thumb at Gavril.

  The other man glanced from David to Gavril, and then back.

  “Bloody hell…” He slipped down, collected his uniform, and left.

  David faced Ikey as he patted the wooden slat. “All yours. Enjoy it. I won’t be able to pull this off two nights in a row.”

  Ikey nodded. “Thank you.”

  As he slipped off his clothes, the handbell rang and the hall was plunged into darkness. Ikey finished undressing, then climbed into bed. He stretched out and expected to feel the cold dampness of the solitary floor press against him. He pulled the blanket around him, still warm from the previous occupants. Above, dark figures flitted through the rafters. Ikey listened for the noise of them, and the quiet whimpering of Philip’s breath.

  After a few minutes, Ikey sat up. Rows of people lay beneath blankets in the dark; breathing, snoring, humming, some singing and others whispering and all of it felt like a flickering fire, felt like a burning that pressed around Ikey.

  He tore another blindfold from his blanket and fixed it around his head. It cut out the sight, but did nothing for the sound. It bubbled around him in a miasma of stifled suffering that left him wanting to go back to the cool quiet of solitary.

  He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he
dug the tunnel. He should have realized the difficulty of getting Gavril out. And the look on David’s face as Philip raced at the machine said that David couldn’t be convinced to leave without Gavril.

  Rose had been right. He should have left. He should have crawled away and found help. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He could walk over to the desk and lay his fist into the face of the closest watchman. Kick and thrash and scream and throw himself at the machines, swing at the mule-headed automatons until they dragged him back to solitary and tossed him inside the dank hole with all the ceremony of tipping rubbish into a dust bin.

  There, he might feel Rose’s presence and speak with her again. Apologize.

  But then again, they might stomp on his right arm and snap it rather than send him back.

  The bunk rocked slightly as someone below shifted his weight. A couple seconds later, David whispered into Ikey's ear. “You awake?”

  Ikey pushed his blindfold up.

  “Scoot over,” David said. “I want to talk to you.”

  Ikey moved over. David pulled himself up onto the bunk. Below, Gavril coughed, his hacking muffled.

  “I’ve kept an eye out for your friend,” David said. “I can’t say I’ve seen anyone matching his description.”

  Ikey shook his head.

  “Look,” David continued. He put his hand on Ikey’s shoulder. Ikey flinched away. “I’m sorry about Philip. I didn’t see him coming. I didn’t think he would… He caught me off guard. And I want you to know how awful I feel about it.”

  Ikey swallowed. He took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. I tried to grab him. My hand wouldn’t close in time.”

  “I know how that goes. It’s reflex. You expect these augments to behave like real limbs from time to time. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.”

  “It’s The Alligator’s.”

  David didn’t respond right away. “If you hold him responsible, then it will get wearisome carrying around that resentment and blame. He’s just doing what they hired him to do. Might as well shake your fist at a storm.”

  Ikey used to imagine his dad’s moods as clouds along the horizon. The dark ones built up, piled upon themselves as his dad slipped into a stubborn silence. After that came the single-word responses, commands that flashed like lightning in the distance and announced that the storm would not veer off or turn back this time.

  “I know it’s been rough on you,” David said. “Not only this last week, but the last two. It’s a lot. But if you want to do something for Philip, then I suggest you consider how you can make lives around here more bearable.”

  Ikey’s mechanical hand clicked as he drew both hands into fists. He could stop The Alligator like he should have stopped his dad. He may not have saved Philip, but he could save others.

  “You remember that bloke who asked you to fix his leg last week?” David asked. “He’s told me he’s got a toolkit for you. All you have to do is fix his leg. You can do a lot around here with a toolkit.”

  Ikey said nothing. He stared at the ceiling and saw The Alligator bearing down on him, face red and raged, fist cocked over his shoulder as he came falling like a hailstorm.

  “Do it,” David said. “Get the toolkit. If you mend the augments of others, then you can pretty much ask for anything you want in here.”

  Ikey rolled onto his side and faced David as he would have faced Philip. He reached out, cupped his hand around the back of David’s neck, and drew his face close.

  “I found a way out.”

  David’s breath stopped. He pulled back and cocked an eyebrow.

  Ikey nodded.

  “Tell me about it,” David whispered.

  “In solitary. I dug a tunnel.”

  “How far?”

  “All the way.”

  “All the way to where?”

  “Out. I stuck my head out and I was staring at a riverbank.”

  David let out a long breath. “Why are you still in here?”

  “I couldn’t leave alone. And I was hoping you’d have found Cross while I was away.”

  “You should have left.”

  Ikey rolled onto his back. “That’s what she said.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  Silence passed as the dark shapes flicked through the rafters again. As two of the shapes nearly collided, they emitted a high-pitched squeaking. One chased the other off into a darker part of the room.

  “What are you thinking?” David asked.

  Ikey held his breath and tried to think of something to answer with. Something that was different than the various ways he’d like to rid Marlhewn of The Alligator.

  David scooted closer. “Do you have a plan?”

  “A plan for what?” Ikey asked.

  “Escape, you dolt.”

  Ikey swallowed hard. What to do with Gavril lay lodged in his throat. If they could get rid of The Alligator before they left, it would make the idea of leaving Gavril behind a little more palatable.

  David scooted closer yet, until his lips hovered beside Ikey’s ear. “You offered to take me to Whitby, get me a job. I want you to take Gavril instead.”

  Ikey turned to David. “What?”

  “He can’t stay here. The air is killing him—“

  Ikey shook his head. “You have to come, too.”

  David inhaled. Air whistled through his nose. The gears inside his hands clicked and creaked and it sounded like the Earth itself turning. “I can’t.”

  “What?” Ikey asked. “That’s the most daft thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Keep your voice down,” David admonished. “Look, Gavril is in here for vagrancy. Vagrancy and the crime of not being British. If he gets out of here and lays low, then the law will overlook him. But me, I’m afraid they’d sorely miss me if I was to up and disappear in the night.”

  “Rubbish,” Ikey said. “Think awful highly of yourself, don’t you?”

  David turned his attention to the ceiling a moment, and then back to Ikey. He searched for something in Ikey’s eyes, and it was oddly refreshing to see something sought, rather than what had become a common act of avoiding eye contact.

  “I don’t make this offer lightly,” David said. “You’re no idiot. You know damn well that Gavril means more to me than life itself. And if I have to spend the rest of my life in here so that he has a better chance of breathing fresh air again, of escaping these,“ David said as he held a hand before his face and stared through splayed fingers, “then there is no price I am not willing to pay.”

  Ikey turned back to the ceiling. It seemed Rose was more and more right.

  He turned to face David again. “His cough. It’s a real problem.”

  David nodded. “There’s a tonic that eases his symptoms. It quiets his cough. If we can get a dram from Rolfe, then you two can sneak out. I’ll stay behind and provide a distraction. Maybe even try and get myself thrown into solitary, you know?”

  “Gavril won’t do it,” Ikey said. “He won’t go if you don’t. You know that, don’t you?”

  It was David’s turn to roll onto his back. He nodded to the ceiling, then turned his head to Ikey.

  “Gavril knows everything about me there is to know, including why I must stay behind.”

  “No—“

  “For me, then?” David asked. “For me because if the situation was reversed, I wouldn’t hesitate to usher Rose out of here. I’d fling her over my shoulder if I had to. For you.”

  Ikey recoiled. His ass jutted out over the edge of the bunk and David grabbed his arm to keep him from dropping over.

  “How do you know?” Ikey asked.

  “Shhh,” David hissed. He added with a grin barely visible in the tincture of light, “You talk in your sleep.”

  Fire burned over Ikey’s face. He expected to see David’s own visage to glow in reflection of Ikey’s embarrassment.

  “For Rose, then?” David asked.

  Ikey shook his head. “For Philip.”

&nbs
p; Chapter Sixteen

  The following morning, as The Alligator proceeded down the line of laborers and assigned them to machines, he halted before Ikey.

  “Welcome back.” His fist smashed into Ikey’s face and knocked him onto his back.

  Ikey stared at the ceiling. The world throbbed. He waited for his stomach to lay down beside him. His dad had never hit him like that. His blows had always come at the end of growing, twisting tirades. They never bolted out of the blue.

  “Get to work!” The Alligator hollered.

  Ikey pushed himself to his feet. David ushered him to their assigned machine over the shifting and bucking world.

  “You all right?” David asked when Ikey took up his position beside him.

  Ikey sniffled once, then ran a finger beneath his nose. It came back dry, though his nose smarted and screamed.

  “You sure?” David insisted. “Don’t want to lose you again. The jackass they had working with me was a lazy son of a bitch.”

  The tray clanged. Ikey gritted his teeth at the sound. He heard the snapping of bones in his head—a sick, percussive instrument. He saw Philip’s legs kick out, then go limp against the mouth of the machine. Ikey closed his eye and watched his hand sweep the leather pieces away. When his arm cleared the machine, he glanced down the row. The Alligator walked away from them. The gaslight shifted and glinted off his steel scales.

  The press clanged.

  Ikey swept more leather pieces away as Philip’s replacement crouched and gathered up the bits. As Ikey stood, he glanced again at The Alligator. He had reached the end of the row and was making his way back. His chain slapped against the meat of his thigh. The gaslight glistened in the sheen of oily sweat covering his chest and head.

  “I’ll kill him,” Ikey vowed.

  David clutched the sleeve of Ikey’s shirt. “You try to lay a finger on him, I will have Gavril tie your legs in a bow around your neck, and don’t think he can’t or won’t.”