The Flux Engine (6 page)

Trying not to shake, John pressed the broom handle forward. He could feel the brass tube beginning to bend. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Hey!” the rough voice of one of Batt’s deputies rang out through the cell block. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Chapter 6

The Not-So-Great Escape

Robi actually thought John’s idea would work. She didn’t have the first clue how to deactivate a shocker box and he’d made it sound easy. She hated to admit it, but she was impressed.

That was bad.

Her focus slipped because of it. Just for a few seconds to be sure, but that was all the time needed for a deputy to discover their newborn escape attempt. The first indication Robi had of the man’s presence was his angry shout, then the unmistakable pounding of running feet.

Hurry.

The broom handle wavered, and the thunder of the deputy’s running feet grew louder. Robi resisted the urge to look up. She didn’t need to know which of Batts’ deputies had discovered them. She’d observed them closely when they escorted her here. Big, so they could handle the work. Mean, so they would carry out even the most unpleasant orders without complaint. And all without the brainpower necessary for betrayal. The perfect minion.

A bead of sweat rolled down from John’s sandy hair and over his cheek. The broom handle wavered again.

“Gimme that,” the Deputy roared, his figure suddenly filling the space between the cages, forcing Robi to stand on her bunk to see.

As the deputy seized the handle, John jerked the broom through the bars, intending to keep it away from the man. The deputy’s beefy hand wrapped around the handle the same instant that John pulled. Unprepared and off balance, the deputy staggered against John’s cell.

Cursing, the deputy pulled back; he had at least a hundred pounds on John, yanking him easily off his feet and slamming him into the bars. Robi winced as John staggered back. Determination on his face, he tightened his grip and pulled. The deputy shot forward with a surprised grunt, hitting his face with enough force to make the bars ring. Of course, John’s stubborn refusal to give up the broom only served to make the large, angry deputy even angrier.

The old man had called it the monkey trap, after the old fable where you catch monkeys because they won’t let go of a handful of pebbles hidden in a small hole. It was instinct that made us want to hold on to something when someone tried to take it away. The old man had spent considerable time training that instinct out of Robi.

John didn’t have the advantage of a master thief’s tutelage.

Swearing like an airshipman, the deputy shifted his grip on the broom. Robi saw the muscles in his shoulder tense.

“Let go!” she yelled.

Enraged, the deputy put his foot against the cage and pulled with all his strength. Apparently the rational part of John’s brain chose that moment to begin working again. He released the broom, holding his hands up in an effort to placate the deputy.

The broom snapped free from John’s hands and the deputy flew backward, holding the suddenly free broom. Arms cartwheeling as he staggered back, he fell against the charged bars of Robi’s cell.

Muscles contracting in asymmetric jerks, the deputy appeared to dance as the shocker crystal pulsed with light, its energy pouring through the bars to the unfortunate man’s body. His mouth hung open as though he wanted to scream, but his contracting chest had forced the air from his lungs. The air smelled of ozone and burnt hair and the bars sizzled and popped. This might have lasted all of ten seconds, but as Robi looked on in sickening fascination, it seemed to take forever.

The energy crystal sparked, sending out one final pulse of energy, then its light faded. The deputy, freed from the hold of the electrified cage, staggered forward. For a horrifying moment, Robi thought the big man would simply shrug off his encounter with the shocker box. After a single step, however, he dropped to his knees, then fell forward onto his face.

Time seemed to hang, suspended, in the cell block as Robi looked at John in stunned disbelief.

Move.
The old man’s voice screamed in her mind.

She dove for the cell door, jamming her memory-wire pick inside. Scrapstalker cages were designed to prevent escape, but they relied on the shocker box for that. The lock was a simple one-pin tumbler like any other cell.

Easy.

As she turned the wire back and forth, seeking the lock’s single pin, the crystal in the shocker box crackled and popped. That couldn’t be good.

Click.

The wire found the tumbler pin as the hair began standing up on her arm. Robi twisted her wrist and pulled hard.

Clack.

She felt the tumbler start to turn and heard the bolt moving, then a mule kicked her in the arm. The room turned suddenly sideways and she could hear John’s voice as if from far away.

“W-what?” she said as the multiple images of the ceiling slowly resolved themselves into a single one.

“I said, are you okay?” John’s voice seemed to come from much closer this time. Robi wasn’t sure. But she didn’t want to show weakness to a stranger. She tried to push herself up but her arm stubbornly refused to move. As she focused her attention on it, pain raced up from her wrist to her elbow. It felt as if stinging ants were crawling all over it.

“What’s the matter?” John asked.

“Cage got me,” Robi said. “My arm’s numb clear up to my elbow. There’s no way I can pick the lock now.”

John swore. He wasn’t good at it and the obscenity sounded almost comical coming from him.

“Any chance you can get him to fry himself again?” Robi asked. John shrugged.

“I don’t see how. You know, he’s going to be powerful mad when he wakes up.”

“You bet he will,” Robi said. “We need to be gone by then.”

“How? The broom landed clear over there and I doubt I can lift the deputy up to the …”

John’s voice just trailed off as he looked in disbelief at the deputy sprawled out between the two cells. Then his face split into a wide grin.

Damnation.

He’d done it again—figured something out before Robi had seen it. It was getting annoying, especially from someone trained to be a lab monkey. She resolved to keep an eye on John for the foreseeable future.

“Well?” she said, expectantly.

Without answering, John reached through the bars of his cell and took hold of the deputy’s arm. He braced himself against the iron bars and pulled, sliding the unconscious man next to the cell. With that done, he removed the deputy’s key ring from his belt.

Robi felt her mouth fall open for a second. She’d been so fixated on picking the lock on the Scrapstalker cage that she forgot there were other ways out. John told her that the shocker box could be simply turned off if he could just reach it.

After a few moments of fumbling, John selected a long iron key and stepped to his cell door. One deft twist of the key later, and John stood outside the cell.

“It will take a minute for the cell to lose its charge,” he said, moving to the open shocker box.

Robi nodded her approval.

“I should have seen that,” she said. “You’re pretty bright—even if you didn’t grow up on the streets.”

“You’re right,” John said, fixing her with his eyes.

Green eyes.

Stop that!

“What are you waiting for?” Robi asked when John didn’t move. “He won’t be out forever.”

“I’m not street smart,” John went on. “I know about growing crystals and I can repair Lantian machines but I don’t know the first thing about finding people. I’ll let you out, but only if you promise to help me track down the woman who stole my crystal.”

A lead weight dropped into Robi’s gut.

Damn him.

“You can’t leave me here,” she hissed.

“I’ve got the keys,” he said, jingling them suggestively. “I can walk out of here right now and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I can yell.”

He shook his head.

“Nice try,” he said. “The others must have gone out. No one came when this one got shocked.”

Damn, damn, damn.

“You won’t last an hour out there,” she said. “They’ll find you and bring you right back here.”

“That’s why I need you,” John said. “You need me to get out of your cell, and I need you to help me pick up the trail of the tattooed woman. Is it a deal?”

Robi sighed. This was not going the way she’d anticipated. All she had to do was get out and help John get on a train for somewhere else and then everybody would be fine. Now crystal boy wanted to muck up a perfectly good plan with his personal revenge.

Still, what choice did she have?

“Fine,” she said. “I know a few people and we can ask around. It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone who remembers a woman with a tattoo on half her face.”

“Swear,” he said.

Unbidden, the old man’s words came rushing to her lips. “You don’t know me, so I’m going to let that one go. When I give my word, it’s my bond, my honor. If anyone breaks this deal, it will be you.”

John seemed to think about this for a moment, then he nodded, turning off the flux valve in the shocker box. A few minutes later, Robi stood outside the Scrapstalker cell, retrieving her dropped lock pick.

“What now?” John asked, eyeing the solid door leading to the front office.

Robi closed the door of the Scrapstalker cell and re-locked the door. “Reactivate the shocker box.”

“Why?” John asked.

“It’s something my dad taught me,” she said. “No one wonders how you got out of an unlocked cell. But if they find you gone and the door locked, it keeps them guessing. People literally thought my dad could walk through walls.”

John considered that for a moment, then shrugged and turned the rubber valve to re-activate the shocker box.

Without waiting for the cell to charge again, Robi tied the deputy’s keys back on his belt, then led the way to the cell block door. Her steps were light and noiseless. John, however, sounded like an army of steam chickens on parade.

“Step where I step,” she said.

“I am.”

At least the sheriff and his men seemed to be out on other business.

As Robi reached the door, she dropped onto her belly, and peered beneath the door. The outer office was empty.

“Where is everyone?” John asked.

Robi shrugged as she picked open the lock on the cell block door.

“Out on patrol,” she said. “Who cares? We’re free.”

She eased the door open and John followed her out into the empty front room. A shadow moved across the wall as someone walked by outside and John held his breath until they were out of sight.

“Relax,” Robi said, locking the cell block door behind him.

“How do we get out?” John said, his voice cracking. “The only door leads right out into the street.”

Robi rolled her eyes. It was good to feel like she was in charge again. She took John’s face in her hands and looked him right in the eye.

“Nobody out there knows we’ve escaped, John,” she said. “Once we walk out that door, we’re just two people going about their business among thousands. If we look like we belong, no one will notice us, and, more importantly, no one will remember us.”

“I’m wearing a shirt that’s too big for me and you don’t have any shoes,” John pointed out. She shrugged.

“They’re still stuck to Pemberton’s rug. Don’t worry, you’d be surprised how nobody actually notices your feet.”

She moved silently to the door and looked out. It was about mid-day and dozens of people of all descriptions were hurrying about their business.

“Okay,” she said, turning back to John. “Just follow my lead and everything will be fine. Just breathe deep, take my arm, and we’ll walk out nice and easy.”

John nodded, but his skin had gone pasty. He took a deep breath and seemed to calm down a bit. He took Robi’s arm and escorted her through the door. She sensed him start to panic as he realized he didn’t know which way to turn. Robi tugged his arm to the left and he turned, following her lead. Walking steadily, they moved away from the jail, turning at the nearest cross street.

John’s arm trembled under her fingers. He was shaking. She remembered the feeling, the first time she’d hid in a bush while armed men searched for her mere feet away. She’d been sure there was a glowstone placard over her head proclaiming her hiding place.

“Calm down,” she said in her most soothing voice.

John took a deep breath and his arm stopped shaking.

“Where are we going?” he asked after a moment.

“Wardrobe.”

“What?” John asked. Robi sighed.

“You really have led a sheltered life, haven’t you? Wardrobe is a theater term, it’s where the costumes are stored.”

John shot her a confused look but didn’t question her further. Robi felt a little twinge of guilt for lording her skill over him, but then he had blackmailed her into helping him. She deserved a little payback.

After a few minutes, Robi led them away from the saloons and shops that occupied the center of Sprocketville. Gradually the streets became narrower and dirtier. They passed dozens of people going about their business. Each time John’s arm tensed up, but she just led him on as if nothing was wrong. A team of laborers from the pipeworks was repairing a steam line outside a smithy and the air was heavy with mist that swirled into little eddies as they passed.

Eventually, Robi turned along an unpaved alley that separated a line of ramshackle row houses from warehouse lane on the edge of town. Between the alley and the backs of the houses were small yards, no more than fifteen foot square. Like the dirty, unrepaired houses, the yards were magnets for clutter, broken things, and trash. A few appeared in good repair, as if their owners actually cared, but most were overgrown and shoddy.

Perfect.

The great thing about overgrown frontier towns like Sprocketville was that with this many people all crammed in together, someone was always doing laundry. A gray towel hung from a wash line strung between one of the houses and a makeshift pole made out of a copper pipe. As they passed Robi reached out casually and pulled it from the line.

“Here,” she said, passing it to John and pointing to a foul looking water pump beside the rear entrance of a warehouse. “Wash your face and try to do something with your hair.”

As John moved to obey, Robi continued casually walking up the street, appraising the various laundry for size as she went. She slipped a drab gray dress off one line as she passed and quickly slipped it over her head, covering her tan shirt and pants. To this, she added a worn-out blue corset, tying it loosely in the back, just enough to make the dress more form-fitting. She still didn’t have any shoes, but the dress was long enough to hide her bare feet.