The Tea Machine (13 page)

“That was us coming in, right?” Sangfroid looked to Millicent for confirmation.

“Yes. I warned Hubert that we had to detour you away from Weena’s annex. You couldn’t find us there. And then I had a wonderful idea—”

Weena managed to sit still while Hubert awkwardly detached the clips from the ends of her tentacles to free her from the oppressive machinery surrounding her.

“Quickly, Hubert.” Millicent waited by the wiring panel, her hand poised on the red switch. “Once I pull this, the lab outside becomes a death trap, and we have to leave immediately. Do you understand me?” she hissed.

“Yes. Death trap, I think I can remember that,” he hissed back and unclipped the last of the tentacle attachments. “What about Weena? Will she be safe?”

“I assume so, seeing as the harbinger of death and destruction is most probably a piece of her big brother.” From the corner of her eye she watched as Sangfroid, and her other self, entered the lab. The other Millicent began to linger over the apparatus on the benches while Sangfroid grew more and more abrupt. She hadn’t realized before how nervous Sangfroid had been, hovering over her anxiously while bossing her about. It saddened her to see how exhausted and beaten down they already were, for she knew there was much worse to come. It also disturbed her that her chignon was in a terrible mess, and as for the state of her day dress!

“All done. Pull the switch,” Hubert said. She did so, and as before, the main lab lighting and all its machinery came to demonic life.

“Good Lord!” Hubert exclaimed, agog at the transformation going on before him. The huge tentacle twitched as electrical current began to run through it. Millicent grabbed his sleeve and pulled him under the nearest bench as they watched Sangfroid bundle the other Millicent towards an exit on the other side of the lab and away from the annex. She breathed a sigh of relief. It had worked; Sangfroid was out of danger and moving away from the dismembered tentacle. She had saved her!

“Quickly, we must leave before the tentacle comes after us.” She pushed Hubert towards the annex door.

“What tentacle?” The glass tank exploded, and the severed appendage began its rampage across the lab, jerking, twitching, and destroying everything in its path. Hubert went sheet white. “Look at the size of that thing,” he squeaked.

“Yes. And though it is severed from the brain it still has some sort of faculty. Soon it will sense we are here and come after us.”

“How fascinating,” Hubert said. “Do you suppose it’s a sort of reverse innervate syndrome?”

“Out. Now.” Even as she shoved him towards the door, she sensed his reluctance to leave Weena despite the avenging severed tentacle destroying all before it.

“She’ll be all right,” she assured him. “They are of a kind. I truly believe that in some way it is trying to protect her.”
Much as you wish to.
The thought surprised her, but she knew it to be true. Hubert was inordinately attached to the little creature, but there was no time to dwell on the thought. She dragged him out into the corridor where they had originally materialized.

“Surely it must be time for the machine to bring us back?” she said. She was anxious about this part of the proceedings, much more so than Hubert who apparently had every faith in his calculations. For the first time, he looked calm and in control. He fished his pocket watch from his waistcoat and announced, “We have seven minutes. Plenty of time. It’s a straight run from here.”

“Seven minutes could be a tad too generous.” She was anxious. They could hardly run around the ship for the next several minutes and remain safe. She looked around for a place to wait it out, except the corridor had changed in their absence. It was no longer empty and abandoned; now it was filled with smoke and the noise of the battle echoed louder as if it was no longer contained by the walls of the hangar. The thud of booted feet came thundering towards them.

“In here.” She pushed Hubert into a shallow recess and squeezed into the space beside him. Several men and women in white overalls ran past escorted by a lone soldier.

“Come on you lot. Run. The escape pods are straight ahead.” The soldier bellowed at his charges. Acrid smoke shrouded the corridor farther on up. They ran on into it, and no sooner had they disappeared into the gloom, than horrible screaming began. There came an ugly shuddering, and the metal walls shrieked in protest as the whole ship lurched.

“I don’t think we should go that way. Do you know another route?” Hubert asked, looking anxiously after the soldier and his doomed charges. He mopped his brow with his handkerchief. Millicent dithered, thinking hard, before taking off again with Hubert at her heels. “I suspect the corridors are built to a grid system,” she said. “If we go down here and keep taking the right hand side we should re-emerge at—Oh.” She broke off. On the floor at their feet lay a pile of abandoned weaponry. “Gallo was checking through these when I first arrived.” She stooped and picked up a hand weapon.

“Who’s Gallo?” Hubert asked.

“Oh, look. A laser pistol! I’ve always wanted to see one up close.” Millicent picked up the weapon and hefted it in her hand. “It’s lighter than I expected. Look, Hubert, isn’t it fascinating that—”

Sangfroid barrelled around the corner, heading straight for her with her own pistol raised and at the ready. She staggered to a standstill, pop-eyed with shock at seeing Millicent standing before her playing with pistols and not tucked away safely behind her where she ought to be. Millicent also gave a start, equally as shocked at Sangfroid’s sudden appearance—and the gun in her hand went off. A blaze of burning blue hit Sangfroid square in the chest at point blank range—

The silence hung heavy. Millicent and Hubert watched Sangfroid in anticipation, their expressions guarded.

“You shot me?” she said, then stood and began pacing. “You shot me. I can’t believe you shot me.” She paused and glared at the time machine and then at Millicent. “Actually, I can.”

“I am truly sorry. It was an accident.” Millicent felt terrible. “You startled me, barging about like that.”

“Yes. I can see how barging about in a war zone would be inconsiderate.”

“Now you’re being silly,” she said. “I thought Gallo had taken all the working guns with her. I had no intention of shooting you.”

“Who is Gallo?” Hubert asked but was ignored.

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here,” Sangfroid said. “Whenever you’re around, I die. It’s as simple as that. How do I know it won’t happen here, ’eh? How do I know you won’t massacre me in this timeline, and then I’ll be dead everywhere! In fact, why don’t I just go outside and hurl myself under a hansom cab and save you the bother.”

“Who is Gallo?”

“Really, you are such a theatre piece. Listening to you is like a bad night at the opera. I have apologized for shooting you; what more can I do?” Millicent said.

“Who is Gallo?” Hubert shouted. They both turned to look at him.

“My best buddy,” Sangfroid said. “And a damn fine soldier.”

“You saw her in the lab, Hubert,” Millicent said. “She came in with myself and Sangfroid.”

“No I didn’t.”

Millicent frowned. “Actually, now I think of it…” She turned to Sangfroid. “On that second occasion, I don’t think Gallo came into the laboratory with us. At first I assumed she was off to the side looking at something or other. But I can’t recall seeing her even once. Was she with us?”

Sangfroid shrugged. “Haven’t a clue. You’ve messed with my timeline so often my memories are about as concrete as baby food. In this version, the weapon you so carelessly aimed at me was working, as if Gallo never picked through them?”

“As if Gallo was never there.” Millicent was worried. A principle player had just walked off stage. Could that happen?

CHAPTER 13

“Millicent,” Sophia said later that
afternoon. “I am feeling frightfully left out. I called this morning with more eggs for Cook only to find all three of you ensconced in Hubert’s laboratory, and that silly creature Edna simply refused to disturb you. She turned into a quivering wreck when I mentioned rousing you. What can you all possibly have to talk about that I can’t contribute to?” She glared at the assembled company until both Millicent and Sangfroid shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Hubert had so far managed to avoid this visit by loitering all afternoon at the university. Millicent seethed at his deliberate absence; she was always being tricked into entertaining Sophia.

“Oh.” She wracked her mind for a topic that would bore Sophia rigid so she would go away. “We were talking about suffrage for women. It’s a movement that is gaining momentum on the Chartism manifesto.”

“Really? I can’t see Declan caring in the least for that.” Sophia sniffed.

“Decanus,” Sangfroid corrected and slurped her afternoon tea. She looked irritated and distracted. Boredom oozed out of her every pore, and Millicent itched to kick her ankles to make her at least sit up straight, instead of listing in her seat like Pisan architecture.

“Major Sangfroid has the greatest interest in women’s suffrage,” Millicent said, bristling at Sophia’s impropriety. It was only last night she had been introduced to Sangfroid properly. Far too soon to assume first name terms, even if it was the wrong first name.

“Decanus,” Sangfroid corrected her, too.

“We agreed you were a major,” she whispered. “You cannot be a decanus here. It means nothing.”

“Maybe it’s an old family name from the Urals—ouch!” She broke off with a yelp. “You pinched me.” She examined a small red mark forming on the side of her wrist.

“You deserved it. We’ve had enough of your Urals,” Millicent said.

“What you bet this goes septic.” She rubbed her wrist. “And I die.”

“You really should be in an operetta,” Millicent said.

“You really should be on a death squad.”

“Enough of this ineffectual flirting,” Sophia said. “It should be curtailed to the front parlour chaise, where it belongs.”

Millicent’s face flamed.

Sophia sailed on heedless of her insensitivity. “I have been inadvertently eavesdropping at Hubert’s laboratory door for some time now,” she said. “And I think it reprehensible of you to not include me in your scientific discussions. I am a highly educated lady, easily a contemporary of Millicent, and yet I’m always left out.”

“How can one inadvertently eavesdrop?” Millicent was so astounded by this admission she let the fantastical nonsense about their intellectual parity pass.

“By arriving at a door, hearing voices, and not going away,” Sophia said. “You see I come from a large family, Mr. Decanus.” She turned to Sangfroid. “For all its size, it is impossible to acquire any information worth having unless one uses one’s ingenuity. Why, I was unaware of my eldest sister’s wedding until the week before. Factual advisement is in short supply, and the rest is all assumption. It’s so easy to be disabused in the Trenchant-Myre idyll.”

“I can’t imagine you being disabused at all,” Sangfroid said. “And it’s decanus, no need for the mister.”

“Oh, in my family, I am quite the scholarly wallflower.” She fluttered back and Millicent bristled. Sophia was being almost coquettish, and it jarred horribly with her usual brusque, blunt, and essentially humourless nature.

“Sophia, what exactly did you overhear at the door?” Millicent asked and leaned over to pour more tea, but with very stiff shoulders to convey her disapproval.

“That you are planning to travel. And very soon.” Sophia added two lumps of sugar with the silver tongs and stirred delicately. Sangfroid offered her cup for a refill. Millicent shuddered at the sight of her mother’s chinaware in the Neanderthal grasp.

“Something about Paradoxees and Quantumphysex.” Sophia took a sip of tea. “Which I am sure are in Africa. And I will not allow it.”

Millicent stilled and cast a look towards Sangfroid who looked back blandly. “I’m sure you misheard.” Millicent tried for a light laugh. Sangfroid did not join in, preferring to sulk.

“No, I did not.” Sophia brushed imaginary crumbs from her lap. “You are planning a journey with Hubert. And it is unfair not to tell me. I should know when the house is to be empty so I can keep an eye on the staff and ensure there is no scally-wagging or loitering. Staff always loll about when the master is away.”

Millicent frowned; it was a relief Sophia had no clue as to the true nature of their travels, but still worrisome she knew of it at all. The drawing room door opened, and Hubert finally joined them.

“How was the university, dearest?” Sophia asked with little interest.

“Busy, as usual. Ah ha, I thought I heard the tinkle of china,” Hubert said merrily looking the tea set. “Any scones?”

“Sophia is aware of your travel plans, Hubert.” Millicent sweetly laid the problem at his newly arrived feet. He paled a little but managed to accept a cup of tea and a buttered scone.

“Oh?” he said and then began to eat robustly as if chewing heartily would save him from adding further to the conversation.

“I should have no wish to travel abroad.” Sophia primly began her lecture. “I see no advantage in such an enterprise.” She regarded Millicent’s plaid fan-front day dress with a sly eye. It was much less stylish than Sophia’s three-piece, peacock blue silk, and both ladies were acutely aware of that fact. Millicent hated her frumpy old dress. Her frequent exploits to Sangfroid’s timeline had denuded her wardrobe of her more fashionable garments. She was now reduced to reaching into the nether regions of the armoire to find anything at all respectable to wear. A shopping expedition was looming, and that disheartened her greatly. Dress shopping was not her forte. Had Sophia proven a more agreeable companion, Millicent would have asked her to come with her and give advice. Sophia knew quality, had taste, and was well up on the latest fashions. But her overbearing nature was too much for Millicent and so she depended on the recommendations of shop girls and her own rather narrow palette of favoured colours.

“I mean, it’s not as if one brings back anything worthwhile, like news of the latest fashions,” Sophia continued. Her barely concealed barb at Millicent’s day dress hit its mark.

“Indeed.” Millicent simpered, trying to control her temper. “I declare you would not like it abroad, Sophia. Their language is atrocious. There were H words, and Fs, and on at least one occasion a B.” Her fingers tightened around her reticule where she had composed a list of all Sangfroid’s unsuitable language so it could be addressed later, if there ever was a later.

“A bee?” Sophia was curious.

“Yes, a B.”

“I do not like bees. I do not like any creatures. Not even cats and dogs.” Sophia was very firm on this. “Nor do I have time for horses.”

“Then I am certain you would not like abroad at all,” Millicent said, thinking of the giant squid upstairs.

“Rather,” Sophia continued as if no one had spoken, “it is more probable that you shall all return with some dreadful disease and die. It is very foolhardy of you, Hubert, to die before we are wed and you can make me a widow.”

Hubert choked on his scone.

“I so admire your thinking, Sophia,” Sangfroid told her. “I mean, who knows what strange souvenirs a man might return with?” She glared at Hubert and let her gaze drift down to his pockets.

“Yes,” Millicent agreed, seething at Sangfroid for siding with Sophia, so she, in turn, sided with Hubert. “There is always the worry of some
organism
following one home,” she said and glared blatantly at Sangfroid so there was no doubt as to which organism she referred to.

Hubert finished his scone, apparently unconcerned by all the glaring going on. “A very valid argument, my dear.” He smiled at Sophia who smiled demurely back.

“So we are in agreement, Hubert,” she said. “No more travel. I can’t have you haring off whenever I need you here to help with my societies. If you were to go away, I would be sure to need you, and you would have to return at once, which begs the question why go in the first place? It is all so fucking awkward.”

“Pardon?” Hubert started in his seat.

Millicent sat bolt upright. “Pardon?” she echoed. They all regarded Sophia in stunned silence. “Sophia,” she said, “I want you to think carefully about this. Have you been travelling yourself, recently?”

“Of course not. How ridiculous. I think I should buggering well know if I had done such a silly thing,” she answered. She gathered her gloves and stood. “Now, I must bid you all farewell. I have to call on the Misses Partridge and help them choose hymns for the church flower festival. It should be frigging fantastic this year.”

Millicent led Sophia out to the hall. “Sophia,” she said, taking her arm in hers. “It’s been wonderful to see you. I’ve been meaning for us to have tea and tell each other our news.”

Sophia regarded her with suspicion. They never swapped news.

“Perhaps you could advise me on purchasing a new dress?” Millicent continued to lay bait. “I do so admire this three-piece you are wearing. Is it a Charles Worth?” She squirmed under Sophia’s narrowed gaze. She hated deceitfulness, but this was for a necessary cause.

“It is a Worth,” Sophia replied slowly. “My sisters and I—”

“What fun,” Millicent interrupted. “You do have such an exciting life.” Sophia tensed and Millicent sensed she may have gone too far. She knew Sophia was sensitive to being the youngest, plainest, and probably the most boring female in her large family. Millicent tried to remedy the situation. “I mean has anything…new…happened recently?” She began to reel Sophia in.

“Well,” Sophia said. “I did have a purpose for my visit this afternoon, but I found it inappropriate to speak of it in front of the gentlemen.”

“Oh, and why would that be, dear?”

“It’s about your coal hole,” Sophia said in a conspiratorial voice.

“My coal hole?” Millicent repeated.

“Yes, I’ve been investigating your domestic arrangements regarding the delivery of coal, and I recommend you get the hatch from the street fixed. You can’t have people falling down there,” Sophia said. “And I may have found you a new footman, too.” She seemed very pleased with this.

“A new footman?” Millicent was lost. Did they even need a footman?

“Except he speaks Latin, not English. But he learns very quickly.” Sophia elaborated. Her colour heightened, putting an unnatural rosy glow onto her sallow cheeks.

Latin?
Millicent tightened her hold on Sophia’s arm and eased her into the brocade settle in the hallway.

“You must tell all,” she said, trying to sound delightfully intrigued rather than heinously alarmed.

“Remember, I called earlier this morning, and as I said, Edna greeted me,” Sophia began, leaping at the chance to have Millicent’s ear. “I found her in a terrible state, yet far too fretful to disturb your elevenses, as I have also stated.” Her disapproval surfaced, but she soldiered on. “She was so relieved to see me, bless her. She needed guidance and advice, and really who better to turn to than her soon-to-be-mistress. Who else was there to take the helm while you were all ensconced in the laboratory?”

“What did she want?” Millicent tried to keep Sophia focused on the facts.

“It was most intriguing,” Sophia continued. “She said to me—”

“Oh, Miss.” Edna, clearly distressed, met Sophia at the door. “There’s something awful in the coal hole, and Cook is too busy straining soft fruits and says it’s none of her business what goes on in the coal hole and if Master Hubert hadn’t sacked the footman for diddling the port, then there’d be a man about the house to go down into coal holes and the like and see what’s what.” Then she sniffled tearfully into her apron and blinked moistly at Sophia.

“And until a new footman is employed, I assume it’s your chore to see ‘what’s what’?” Sophia asked as regally as she could muster, making a mental note to remind Hubert to hire a man as quickly as possible. Lord only knew how many ‘what’s what’ had been left to Edna’s slippery attention span.

Sophia sighed heavily. She had been hoping to forgo these sort of domestic situations until long after she was married. She was the fifth and last daughter out of nine children, and very far down the chain of command in the Trenchant-Myre household. From an early age, Sophia had to struggle for every soupçon of attention she could garner. Nor did it overly concern her parents that their youngest daughter’s education was cobbled together from her siblings’ scholastic leftovers. Tutors had been set up for the boys until they came of an age they could be jettisoned off to boarding school, only to return for weddings, funerals, and an occasional Christmas. The young Sophia relied on her brother’s cast-off books and purloined volumes from her father’s library in order to learn anything at all.

Her older sisters had been taught the rudiments of household management from their mother, including the literacy levels needed to keep the books and make sure one’s servants weren’t bleeding one dry. But in Sophia’s case, her blessed Mama delivered these lessons less frequently. With nine children behind her, and an age gap of ten years between her other daughters and Sophia, Mama was quite worn out by the time it was Sophia’s turn to learn womanly wiles. The result was Sophia had little knowledge of domestic economy. Her greatest shame, one of many, was that she came to Hubert totally unprepared to run his house and was secretly hoping Millicent would continue on in that capacity. Though she’d rather choke on her own tongue than ask.

“Where is Miss Millicent? Surely she should be taking an interest in the coal hole?” Sophia asked Edna.

“Miss Millicent and Master Hubert are currently indisposed,” Edna answered unhelpfully. “I went for Miss Millicent first, but she was not to be found. I think they are in the master’s laboratory taking tea and I am not allowed to ‘so much as knock on the door,’” she rhymed off by rote.

As much as she wanted Millicent to run the house, it still irked Sophia that she should take centre stage, especially when it came to Hubert. Sophia had never once set foot in the laboratory, yet Millicent swanned in and out as if it were Claridge’s. She filled the most important roles, leaving Sophia in the shadows. Sophia already had a multitude of siblings doing just that, and it was tiresome that the pattern continued into her new life. Why did everyone refer to Millicent in a crisis? Sophia decided that on this occasion she would take command. After all, in the absence of Millicent and Hubert, it was up to her to keep the house flag aloft. She may have little to give in the way of domestic advice, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t offer it anyway, if only for effect. She cleared her throat and launched into action. “What exactly
is
a coal hole, Edna?”