Rebel Mechanics (15 page)

“Schoolchildren one day will sing songs about you,” Colin said after draining his glass. “We can all live and be free, thanks to a lass named Verity,” he sang heartily.

“Though we hope the songs will be better than that,” Lizzie said.

“That was purely off the cuff, sister of mine,” he said defensively. “Give me time, and I'll write a proper ballad. Our Verity deserves nothing less.”

Alec wrapped my hand in both of his. “You'll see, it will be fine. The British may even call it all off once they see the children.”

Our meals arrived, and our group grew as others came into the restaurant and joined us. We stayed until very late, eating, drinking wine, laughing, and talking. I was shy at first around so many strangers who were entirely unlike anyone I'd ever met, but as the evening wore on, I joined in the boisterous joking and even engaged in a political discussion. Alec remained particularly attentive, as though he was making sure the other boys knew I was spoken for. He rested his arm around the back of my chair and sometimes even my shoulders. Every so often, he'd touch my hand or my arm when making a point.

When the restaurant's owner finally shooed us out into the night so he could close, Alec walked Lizzie and me back to the boardinghouse. Lizzie hurried inside after giving me a knowing wink, and Alec paused at the foot of the front steps to say good night to me. “We won't take any unnecessary risks tomorrow,” he assured me, resting his hand on my waist. I could barely feel his touch through all the layers of clothing, but knowing that he was touching me made my skin grow warm in that spot. “This is too important to get wrong.”

“I still wish you wouldn't challenge them so directly. I don't want you to get hurt.”

“Verity, we can't have a revolution—we can't change things—without challenging them.” His face softened as he added gently, “But I am touched that you care for my safety.” He stroked my cheek, and then he leaned over and kissed me on the mouth.

I'd never kissed a boy before. That wasn't the sort of thing a proper lady would do without an engagement ring, at the very least, but my prospects of being a proper lady were slim. I returned the kiss, tentatively at first, but then with more vigor as my entire body came to life.

I was left breathless when Alec pulled away. Keeping his hands on my shoulders, he said, “I'll see you in the morning, Verity.” After a light kiss on my forehead, he released me. He waited until I'd opened the front door, and I gave him a shy wave as I slipped inside. I practically floated up the stairs to Lizzie's room.

“You two took long enough to say good night,” she teased when I entered.

“We had things to discuss,” I said, hoping I didn't blush badly enough to give myself away.

“Oh, I'm sure it was a very deep discussion.”

Now I knew my cheeks had to be flaming. What must she think of me? “Was it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who was watching the two of you all evening. I do believe our Alec is smitten. He'll probably name his next engine after you. The question is, are you as smitten as he is?”

I sat on the couch and hugged a pillow to my chest. “Oh, yes, very much so.” It was nice to have someone I could confide in. I might have burst if I'd had to keep this all to myself.

“I suppose that means you've decided to join us tomorrow,” she said.

Only then did I realize that I'd never actually made a firm decision. I'd been swept along with all the fervor of Alec's cause and his kisses, but now I didn't think I could turn back.

*   *   *

In spite of the late night, we were up early the next morning to get supplies for the outing. Lizzie stopped in front of a bakery and took a list and a few bills out of her purse. “It may take a loaves-and-fishes miracle to get enough food for a proper picnic,” she said with a frown.

I handed her the money Lord Henry had given me. “This will help.”

“Verity, you don't have to give us money.”

“It's not mine. Lord Henry gave it to me for the children.” Anticipating the protest her horrified expression told me was coming, I added, “And no, I didn't tell him where I was going or exactly what I was doing, but I needed to give him a reason I'd be away for the weekend, and I thought that a charity project with slum children would meet with no objection. He insisted on contributing to the cause.”

She counted the money and let out a low whistle. “He was very generous. We can get fruit and sweets.”

“Not all magisters are evil oppressors. It's not the magic that makes them bad.”

“He still lives far better than anyone in this part of town, and it's the magic that allows him that life without toil. Magic corrupts.” As she whirled to enter the shop, I winced at the reminder that she might not accept me if she knew what I really was.

After we'd finished shopping, Lizzie stopped at a street corner and faced me, her expression very serious. “I need to know if you're in this with us.”

“I said I wouldn't stop you, and I'm here with you now.”

“That's not what I meant. Are you choosing to be one of us, to be a full member of the movement? Can we trust you absolutely?”

“Well, of course,” I said, somewhat annoyed at being questioned. “I've been writing for you and passing on information. Even when I don't entirely agree, I'd never betray you.”

She regarded me a moment longer, then nodded. “Very well, then. That's what I needed to know. Come on.” She resumed walking and led me to an old opera house with a faded sign announcing it as the home of the university theatrical society. “You'll need to pin on your insignia to get through the door,” Lizzie told me, and I realized she'd taken me directly to the Mechanics' headquarters, which meant they now considered me a member. So
that
was what that odd little scene had been about. She'd been making sure of me before trusting me with this last bit of information. There would be no going back now.

The door guard waved me inside with a slight bow of deference. Apparently it was no secret that I had brought the prized intelligence that had sparked this plot. I sent up a silent prayer that things would go according to plan. The auditorium wasn't nearly as festive as it had been the night of the party. The banners were gone, and rows of chairs faced the stage so that the place looked like an ordinary theater.

I joined Lizzie and a group of other women in making sandwiches and packing picnic baskets. We'd just finished the last basket when a shrill whistle sounded, and we went outside with our baskets to find Bessie the steam engine with two omnibuses hitched behind her. Alec was in his usual place on the engine itself, next to the driver, and I blew him a kiss, which he returned with a smile. I suddenly felt much better about this outing. We'd be doing a good deed while I got to spend time with my sweetheart—I presumed I could safely call him that after the kisses we'd shared.

Colin once again played conductor, helping the ladies onto the bus with a tip of his bowler hat. Once we were all on board, the engine moved more sedately than it had on that fateful trip my first day in the city, perhaps because of its greater load and perhaps because they didn't want to attract trouble.

While we journeyed farther downtown, Colin lectured us on the plan, shouting to make himself heard over the chugging of the engine. “Give the soldiers no reason to feel threatened by you, no excuse to fire on you. Only the girls and children are to approach the soldiers. We don't want any bloodshed today, and they won't either. Is that understood?” As soon as everyone had acknowledged him, Colin grinned broadly and led us in a rousing chorus of “Yankee Doodle.”

The engine stopped on a lower block of the Bowery, and Alec sounded the steam whistle. Children playing on the sidewalks stopped their games, and adults conversing or haggling turned to stare. Others gradually emerged from the tenement buildings and alleys to gawk at the great machine. I'd expected them to be awestruck, as I had been on my first encounter with it, but they looked at the engine, the buses, and us with suspicion, if not outright hostility. While some of the smaller children cowered behind their mothers' skirts, the older ones moved closer to the engine, and without the boyish enthusiasm Rollo would have shown. To them, we seemed to be unwelcome invaders.

“Don't look now, but I believe we're surrounded,” Colin muttered.

I knew then that none of us had planned for the
real
trouble we'd face in this endeavor.

 

IN WHICH WE FACE YOUNG CRIMINALS AND TRAITORS

“They know why we're here, don't they?” I asked Lizzie.

“I told a few people, and I thought they'd spread the word,” she replied without taking her eyes off the crowd surrounding us. “They're here, so they must know, right?”

“Whether they want us to be here is another story,” Colin said.

Alec tapped on the front window, and Colin opened it. “I suppose we should do this,” Alec said, sounding less sure of himself now. He'd talked bravely about facing down the British troops, but the slum children were something different entirely.

I had pictured proud, sad-eyed people dressed in meticulously maintained rags who would weep with gratitude for our generosity. These people's rags were filthy and unkempt. Their eyes were neither sad nor proud. A few looked sullen, others blank. Many of the adults—and some of the children—appeared to be intoxicated, even at that hour on a Sunday morning. They probably didn't know or care about the struggles between the Mechanics and the British because they'd come out the same, either way. They were no more likely to use machinery than magic.

Colin straightened his hat, took a deep breath, and stood in the doorway. “All children are invited to join us on a magnificent excursion, at no cost to you!” he shouted. “Take a ride on our steam-driven omnibus for a picnic on the Battery, where you'll see amazing machines in action!”

Somebody threw a rock at the engine, narrowly missing the driver but hitting the machine with an echoing clang. “Hey!” Alec shouted, then he pulled a lever, sending a burst of steam billowing into the air. That drove the troublemakers back.

A few children stepped up, and some of the parents gave their children a hard shove toward the buses, but most still hung back. Other parents grabbed their children and held them close or pushed them into doorways. “We'll return them,” Colin blurted, sounding affronted. A few more children edged forward, but we still didn't have enough to fill both buses. “We have sweets!” Colin shouted in desperation, and a mob of children materialized as if from thin air to rush, shouting, toward us.

Colin instinctively jumped away from the door. “We appear to be under attack,” he said wryly. Putting on his conductor persona, he said with a welcoming grin, “Right this way, ladies and gentlemen, one at a time.” But the children, who had likely never ridden any conveyance with a conductor, nearly trampled him in their eagerness to find the sweets.

When we had everyone on board, there were so many children that the smaller ones had to sit in the bigger ones' laps, and there were even a couple of older boys riding on the engine. Finally, with one last great blast of the whistle, we were off. We'd barely gone three blocks before the children were out of their seats, running up and down the aisle. The bus threatened to tip over when a particularly interesting sight on one side brought all of them over to see it.

Colin rushed up the aisle to push children back into their seats. “Stay down!” he shouted. A few of the children appeared properly cowed, but the rest ignored him entirely. It took him, Lizzie, and me several minutes to get everyone down again because no sooner had we seated one child than another got up.

To distract the children, Colin attempted to start a sing-along, but the children didn't know any of his songs. “You're a great bunch of Philistines, you are,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “Well, it's high time you got some culture.” He proceeded to teach them his version of “Yankee Doodle,” and the children must have liked mocking the magisters because eventually they joined in the chorus.

We reached the Battery, and the stone walls of the fort came into view. It had been built to protect the harbor, but now it served more as a reminder of British might on colonial shores. As if to mitigate that impression, the Battery next to the fort was open as a public park when it wasn't being used for military ceremonies.

There was no sign of the military outside the gates of the fort, but other Mechanics were already there in force. The calliope, which was on wheels and had its own engine, sat in the park playing merrily. Nearby, a steam engine smaller than Bessie was hitched to a wagon loaded with hay. Some of the devices from the exposition were there, including miniature trains and airships.

When the bus stopped, it took all of Colin's effort to make the children get off one at a time. Once they were off, he took a red handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. “Bringing this lot here might count as an act of war,” he said with a rueful grin. “The soldiers'll barricade themselves in the fort if they know what's good for 'em.”

Alec jumped down from the engine and pushed his goggles back on his forehead. “Do you feel better about what we're doing here now?” he asked me.

“I was worried about the soldiers,” I said, eyeing the children at play. “Now I have to agree with Colin. The soldiers may be the least of our worries.”

Alec put a protective arm around me. “Don't worry, I'll keep you safe from the hooligans.”

“Verity, this isn't a romantic outing for two,” Lizzie called, and I stepped guiltily away from Alec before going to help carry out the baskets for the picnic. We soon had to call in reinforcements because it took several guards to keep children from stealing food while we readied the picnic. As skinny as these children were, I suspected some of them hadn't eaten in days.