The Tea Machine (25 page)

“Safety in numbers,” Gallo shouted, before beheading a bear and gutting the hugest wolf Millicent had ever seen. She looked at the cogs and gears spilling out of the wolf. It was more hellhound that lupine, and she had no doubt an evil mind had created it.

“Hey,” Gallo told her. “Watch this.” She picked up a putrid pomegranate that had rolled near her feet, and with a strong right arm flung it straight at Cybele’s box. It landed in the matron’s lap, much to her alarm. Immediately, she leaped to her feet and exited her box with a flurry of her followers. Gallo crowed with delight then turned back to business. “Keep up with the Amazons, they’re your protection,” Gallo ordered, and charged on.

“I thought you were my protection?” Millicent puffed along beside her.

“I have your left flank, but believe me, they,” Gallo nodded at Alkaia and her warriors, “have everything else.”

“Where is the elephant?”

“What?”

“I’ve lost sight of the elephant,” Millicent said, craning her neck to see. The arena was filling with smoke. Kronos’s men had wheeled in tar barrels and set them alight. Millicent was unsure how this was meant to ease the confusion. It had no effect on the animals whatsoever and managed only to blind the warriors fighting them. A hail of arrows whistled overhead.

“What on earth are they shooting at?” Millicent asked.

“The predators. Citizens have fallen into the arena; they can’t have the great and the good of Rome guzzled by mechanical beasts.” She swiped at a second wolf and cursed as it leaped out of reach.

“They’d destroy their own mechanical beasts?”

“They can always rebuild them with the salvaged parts.” Gallo swung the broad of her sword flat across the back of a hyena. It yelped and turned on her and she sank the blade hilt-deep into the exposed gears of its muzzle and prized its jaw off.

“There’s your elephant.” She swung her sword point towards the stalls on the far side of the arena. Millicent’s gaze followed the dripping blade, and there was the elephant, bristling with arrows like a mammoth hedgehog but still lumbering steadily through the tiers of seats. It was heading directly for a brightly bedecked balcony where all was in chaos.

“Where’s Sangfroid? Wasn’t she was chained to it?” She squinted through the oily smoke, and then saw her, clinging to the side of the animal trying to keep away from the stomping feet, and ducking any incoming arrows. “Oh Lord, she still is!”

Gallo roared with laughter. “She’s making a run for it right through the Emperor’s balcony. Told you she’d be all right. I wonder if we should follow her?”

Millicent considered this. Piles of bodies lay between them and the breach the elephant had made in the wall. All around them guards ran hither and thither while Kronos, resplendent in his games master finery, screamed out orders, then counter orders, then countered the counter orders, his face a contortion of fear and fury. Under his direction, nothing but confusion and clownishness unfolded. The Amazons swept all before them. Everything fell to their blades. Beasts and guards alike were enemy in the smoke-filled morass. Only the thankful citizens felt their mercy and were allowed to escape unscathed.

A guard’s head rolled up to Millicent’s feet like some macabre rugger ball. Repulsed, she kicked it back into the smoky abyss. Out of the fug another guard came charging in, sword raised and a demented war cry howling from his throat. To her fevered mind, it was as if the head had somehow re-animated to a full-sized man and came at her hell-bent on revenge. Millicent blindly levelled her trident, and he ran into it at full tilt. There was a snap as his armour buckled and gave way. A popping sound reverberated along the shaft and into her arm as his flesh sank into the prongs. He staggered, grunted in shock, and fell to his knees, wrenching the weapon from her numbed grasp. She gawped at his lifeless form. Horror rose within her, enveloping her senses in a sickly dreamlike haze. Reality became a tunnel of distant noise and narrowing light.

“Well done you.” Gallo walloped her on the back and sent her staggering. The thump pulled her back to the here and now, to the arena in all its destruction. It stung like cold water.

“I knew it. You’re a friggin’ natural.” Gallo yanked the trident out of the guard’s chest and thrust it back into Millicent’s unwilling hands. It was the last thing she wanted, but already Gallo was loping away, dragging them deeper into the smoke smeared battlefield. Millicent hopped along after her, pushing through the clash of steel and the harrowing cries of animal and human, her fingers glued to the trident with the blood of her kill.

When Aphrodite finally reached the palm fronds, peace prevailed. Satisfied, she stood and munched on all the garlands and foliage she could find. The Emperor’s balcony had long been evacuated of his honourable personage, and the remaining Imperial guards had a commander wise enough to let the elephant graze quietly. Sangfroid took the opportunity to slink away. In the ruckus of Aphrodite’s ascent, the chain had wrenched loose. Now she hunkered under a wooden terrace, hacking at the manacle pin with an arrowhead. Around her spectators were being hastily ushered out, the games had come to an impromptu close.

“You. Out now!” A spear tip dug into her back, placed perfectly to puncture a lung with the slightest pressure. This was an Imperial guard, not the riff-raff who worked for the arena. Sangfroid stood slowly, appreciative of a well-handled weapon, and let herself be escorted back to the arena. The guard marched briskly past the mountain of bodies being unceremoniously slung onto open wagons. The predator carcasses—and there were far more than Sangfroid expected—were cleaved apart, the mechanical joints and innards dug out for salvage. She was prodded across the arena towards the group of Amazons. The high death toll of the steam beasts suddenly made sense. The Amazons had annihilated them. Amazons despised the unnatural.

“Is that all’s left?” Kronos stomped up and down looking more smelly and bedraggled than ever in his outlandish costume. He tried to swagger before an Imperial commander, though his fear and uncertainty showed in every step. Kronos was in trouble, and Sangfroid wasn’t at all surprised. The games had been a debacle. If it hadn’t been for the Amazons, these automated predators would be prowling the streets of Rome by now, gorging on anything they could find. There was an anthill somewhere with Kronos’s name on it.

Sangfroid turned her attention to the Amazons. Close up they looked to be a strong, close knit crew. She’d be more than happy to have warriors like this in her unit.
They’d show a squid a thing or two, I’ll bet.
To the rear of the Amazons, she thought she saw…
did she?
She blinked the smoke out of her eyes and looked harder. Was that Gallo lurking at the back like a big weed, laughing at her? And beside Gallo stood a dwarf woman. No. Not a dwarf…a normal sized woman. A normal woman among a stack of big Amazonian weeds! Gallo and the Amazons towered over her, but there was no doubt that it was Millicent! Her Millicent! She began to run towards her, but after two strides it became a hobble, and then a serious limp. Aphrodite had nearly torn her leg from its socket.

Millicent hobbled forward to meet her. Gallo followed, still chained to her by the ankle. Sangfroid swooped on Millicent and lifted her into the air in a huge swirling hug of joy. Round and round she spun, holding her tightly, until Gallo squawked for her to stop as she had to skip around and around with them.

“Oh, Millicent,” she said, and immediately ran out of eloquence, so she kissed her. She kissed her as though their lives depended on it. She melted into the softness of Millicent’s mouth, aware of the scrape of her own chapped lips. The sweet, sweaty scent of Millicent filled her senses despite the acrid smell of smoke and gore clinging to her own body. She rejoiced in the kiss, the closeness, the momentary nirvana it provided.

“Oh, look. Romance.” The Amazons began to catcall and make kissy-kissy noises that broke through her stupor. Sangfroid pulled back and found herself face-to-face with a very startled and flushed Millicent. Sangfroid had kissed her, and she was livid. Her throat went dry. Squarely, she met Millicent’s sparking gaze and scoured it for clues. There were hundreds, but she couldn’t read any of them.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she managed to say. Her arms refused to let go. “You smell of oranges?”

“Rotten oranges.” Millicent did not step immediately out of her arms. Sangfroid could feel exhaustion in the slackness of her body. She had found a comfort in their embrace, too. Even if it was not openly acknowledged. “The crowd pelted me. They thought I was a tea maiden.”

“A what?”

“It’s a long and tedious story. The main thing is we are all together at last, except for Sophia, and I have a theory about that.”

Always with the theories.
“Does this mean we can get the hell out of here?” she asked.

Now Millicent did step back, her face a flurry of thought. “I’m not sure how we can. There’s no one back home to work the time machine.”

“How in Tartarus did you end up in the arena?” Gallo slapped her on the shoulder. “Isn’t it fantastic?”

A lowly trumpeting interrupted their debriefing. Aphrodite lumbered slowly towards them prodded on by guards with long spears. She was limping and her skinny flanks ran red with blood.

“Hey girl.” Sangfroid reached up to rub the fleshy knoll above her metal trunk. “Did you enjoy your grub?” Her heart felt heavy for the animal so abused, yet so gentle in spirit. Millicent joined her and gingerly patted a shoulder before gaining courage to stroke a wizened, whiskery cheek.

“She’s very sweet, Sangfroid,” she said, as if reading her mind. “But a Colossal squid has already nearly destroyed the house. What would a mechanical elephant do? We can’t take her back. We can’t even get ourselves home.”

“I know, but I hate this world and the way it treats animals. And felons,” she added as an afterthought remembering Michael.

“It treats the poor and needy just as badly. It’s a hateful place,” Millicent agreed.

“Line up, you shower of scum,” Kronos yelled, unwittingly reinforcing their words. They shuffled together in a sort of row as Aphrodite was led away to the animal pens.

“Commander Pullo of the Imperial Guard believes the Emperor’s would-be assassin is hiding among you lot,” Kronos said. He was obviously cranky at having to spew out this balderdash, but was under orders to comply. The Imperial command could squash him flatter than a turd fly if they chose to.

The commander stepped forward and brushed Kronos aside. He was a tall, impressive man bedecked in the regalia of the Emperor’s finest. His lorica held a swirl of sigils and emblems across his chest relaying the might and majesty of Rome under Severus Ex. “We know the elephant was a decoy, a means to get an assassin close to the Emperor.” His tone was clipped, cold, and impatient. “And we know one of you is behind this attempt on the Emperor’s life. So, these are the options. Continue to harbour the assassin, and you will all be killed here and now. Or, the assassin surrenders, and the rest of you are spared.” His eyes flitted from one to another, gauging the reaction of his words. They were met with a stony Amazonian silence. He puffed through his nose. “What’s it to be?”

Millicent grabbed Sangfroid’s hand and held on tight. The Amazons bristled at the ridiculous accusation. Commander Pullo took another step forward to make his formal charge. “I want the one called Sangfroid for attempted assassination of the Emperor by means of a mechanical elephant.” More silence. The commander waited a heartbeat then barked out, “Who is Sangfroid?”

Another heartbeat, and Sangfroid slipped free of Millicent’s grasp and stepped forward. “I’m Sangfroid.”

The commander nodded with satisfaction and went to turn away.

Millicent stepped forward. “I am Sangfroid!” Her voice rang out loud and clear. Her chin defiantly tilted. Sangfroid frowned. The commander halted.

Millicent glared at Gallo, who, after a confused blink, realized what she had to do and also stepped forward. “I am Sangfroid,” she bellowed at the Imperial commander.

The Amazons exchanged swift, furtive glances. Then, they too, stepped forward as one, and all called out in unison, “I am Sangfroid.”

Commander Pullo’s lips thinned to bloodless slits. He glared at Kronos. With a grumpy sigh Kronos came forward.

“You are a dozy lot,” he said, moodily. Nothing was going well today. “Sangfroid, get over here.” He looked directly at Sangfroid and pointed at a spot before him. “I know who you are. You’re the only bleedin’ man in the whole bunch, fer Jove’s sake.”

CHAPTER 25

Gallo moved protectively towards Sangfroid,
and Millicent stayed glued to her side. “We can’t be separated,” she hissed.

“You and me, babe.” Sangfroid took her hand and squeezed it. “All the way.”

“Not that.” Exasperated, Millicent tugged her hand free. “I meant the three of us can’t be separated. We might never meet up again and be stuck here forever.”

All three stood proudly defiant waiting for Commander Pullo’s next move. The Imperial soldiers shifted uneasily. The arena guards looked twitchy, and the Amazons simply glowered. Hands drifted to sword hilts or curled tighter around spear shafts and ax-handles. The air was sharp as pinpricks. Static energy roiled around them, as if an electrical storm was brewing. It prickled the skin and dried the mouth and made muscles and tempers twitch. Millicent suddenly realized this was much more than just a drama-laden, atmospheric standoff. There actually
was
an energy field gathering around them.

Her scalp tightened and the ground under her feet felt loose and insubstantial. A sickly feeling of foreboding grew in her stomach. She toppled. The sandy floor of the arena tilted up to meet her as she fell headlong towards it.
I know what this is. But how on earth can it be happening? How could—

She never finished her thought; the world around her went black. It spun wildly out of control and swirled away from her. The heat and dust, along with the horrid coppery smell of blood dissipated. Another warmer smell came rushing in, a comforting one. It held oil and leather, the spicy tang of sweat…Millicent slowly opened her eyes and found herself nose deep in Sangfroid. She was clutching her tightly, arms wrapped around her waist. “I’ll never get used to this,” she muttered against Sangfroid’s breast.

“Oh? I kinda like it.” The smile in Sangfroid’s words made Millicent pull away. It did not do to bury one’s nose in a soldier’s chest. Stepping away, the surroundings immediately came into sharp focus. They were in Hubert’s laboratory, standing next to the time machine. The drapes were closed and a fire crackled in the hearth. Gallo had landed flat on her back on the chaise and was struggling out of its feathery depths into a sitting position.

“I’m getting good at this.” She patted the soft fabric looking rather pleased. “Better than the coal hole.”

“How did we get back here?” Sangfroid asked, looking around the room. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I’m not at all sure.” Millicent was troubled. “Unless Hubert has somehow set his machine to automatically recall time travellers. Though I’m sure he would have mentioned it if he had done. It would be a marvellous advancement, and he was never slow to brag.”

The door opened, and Edna entered carrying a silver tray of drinks. She moved as slowly and as carefully as ever, head bowed in total concentration on her feet. The crystal decanter and glasses tinkled tremulously with each step.

“Thank you, Edna,” Millicent said and tried to pat her hair into some semblance of respectability before the hired help. She noted Sangfroid and Gallo’s eyes light up as the decanter of whiskey was deposited on an occasional table. Their love affair with her timeline’s alcoholic beverages had not diminished.

“Were you expecting us?” She found it strange for Edna to be so circumspect. Usually the girl was a ditherer. And it was very peculiar for her to be in the laboratory at all. The room spooked her, and Hubert had always been adamant that she should never enter as she was a notoriously clumsy girl.

“Yes, ma’am. The master said he’ll be along directly and to bring out the best malt,” Edna said.

“The master? Professor Aberly is here?” Millicent’s heart pounded. Could Hubert still be alive? Had they arrived back before his untimely death and, better yet, could they avert it altogether? She took an eager step towards Edna, anxious for more information.

“Why yes, ma’am,” Edna said and turned to fully face her. “The master’s upstairs in his rooms.”

Millicent took a step back in alarm. Though Edna spoke, Millicent was unsure where the words were emerging from. Edna had no mouth. In fact, Edna’s entire visage was missing. Her face was no more than a bronze clockwork mask. She had no human features—no nose, mouth, or eyes…yet her face seethed with tiny mechanical movements as if the metal itself were alive.

“Skatos!” Gallo gawped.

“I don’t think we’re home yet.” Sangfroid gently inserted herself between Millicent and the Edna machine, though it gave no indication of being dangerous. With a soft whir, Edna turned and left the room, slipping past the man who now stood in the doorway.

“She is quite harmless,” he said. “A mere service device; nothing more.”

“Hubert!” Millicent made to run to him, then hesitated, for although it looked like her dear brother, there were subtle changes that disconcerted her. He looked leaner, and his hair was very awry; no longer oiled down and respectable, it shot violently into the air as if voltage ran through it. His gilt eyeglasses were of smoked glass and strangely styled, and his clothes had a severe, dapper cut that was totally unlike his usual wardrobe. Gone were the bulky tweeds with overstuffed pockets and saggy elbows, these were now replaced with well-tailored worsted wool.

“Hubert?” she repeated, uncertainly.

“Oh Millicent, dearest, you look as if you’ve been through the wars.” He reached out for her with brotherly affection, and she accepted his embrace, conscious of her filthy Roman tunic pressed against his new, unsettling elegance.

“It’s true; I do feel as if I’ve met my Waterloo and barely scraped through.” She sniffed away her tears. This was not the time for self-pity, no matter how inviting the concept. There were too many questions rampaging through her mind, and she began with the foremost.

“What have you done with Edna?” It opened a floodgate. “I thought you were dead. I thought Weena had eaten you. Did she not eat you? And where is Weena? And why do you look so different? Did you bring us back here in the time machine? Where is Sophia? Is she here? Please let her be here. And why did you order the good whiskey for these two?” She indicated Sangfroid and Gallo. “You know they will only guzzle it.”

Hubert laughed. His easy confidence a new thing, too.

“All is well, Millicent. Let us sit by the fire, and I will tell you everything. Here, let me pour you all a…” His words trailed off as it became evident at least two of his guests had already helped themselves to the whiskey and were now sitting by the fire in comfort with their glasses brimful. “Um, let us join Sangfroid and Gallo.” He guided Millicent to the chaise and presented her with a glass holding a thimbleful of spirits. “Purely medicinal,” he murmured.

“Yeah, medicinal.” Gallo raised her glass in salute.

“Feeling better already.” Sangfroid raised her glass, too.

“What happened, Hubert?” Millicent persisted. “The last time we saw you, Weena had devoured you. And then Sophia inadvertently started the time machine and took us all off to a dreadful alternative Rome. Though Lord knows where she is now. She was not with us. She was slightly ahead of us, which I assume means she arrived even farther back in history.” She spluttered over her first sip of whiskey, then found its harsh warmth secure and soothing.

“Firstly, we need to locate Sophia and very soon. Secondly, Weena did not devour me. As a young female, she has a soft pouch in her mouth where she can keep her young. Not unlike a pelican,” Hubert explained.

“Pelicans keep food in their pouches.” Millicent pointed out, unwilling to be so easily placated. She had seen her brother swallowed by a huge space squid, something one did not shrug off lightly.

“Um. Yes. Perhaps that was the wrong analogy,” Hubert conceded. “Anyway, Weena has this pouch thingy to hold her young when she travels. Remember, she’s from the Cat’s Paw nebula in Scorpius Major, an enormous gaseous galaxy where space squid swim about in shoals and keep their infants close until they can cope on their own.”

“Like whales in a pod.” Millicent was intrigued. She imagined the Cat’s Paw nebula as a huge space ocean marbled with lazy curls of current. A wonderland where magnificent space beasts ploughed the deeps; much as she dreamed of cryptids navigating the inky fathoms of her own planet.

“Yes, except whales don’t keep their young in their mouths,” Hubert said.

“Neither do pelicans,” Millicent countered.

“Forget all that. If she didn’t eat you, where did she take you?” Sangfroid interrupted. “You said they put their young in their mouths to go travelling. So, where did you go?”

“Ah. Yes.” Hubert shifted uncomfortably. Now that she was used to this fine-feathered version of her brother, Millicent could relax, for she sensed the older version, with all his awkward mannerisms and wonderful kindness, was not far beneath this new, shiny surface. His travels had not changed him that much. “Well, um…” he stuttered to a halt, unsure of himself and what to say next.

“That bad, ’eh?” Gallo said, gently. Millicent was impressed with this uncharacteristic sensitivity. Gallo’s rough edges had certainly begun to soften. “We had it rough, too,” Gallo continued with her newfound empathy. “We were thrown into the gladiator arena. With Amazons! And steam-powered lions. And tigers and bears, too. They had steam powered everything!” Her excitement grew. “And Millicent had to work in a brothel.”

“What?” Hubert jerked in his seat. Millicent closed her eyes.

“And I was chained to an elephant,” Sangfroid butted in.

“A brothel?” Hubert said.

“And accused of trying to assassinate the Emperor.” Sangfroid warmed to her theme. “Like I’d come at him with a steam elephant.” She snorted with disgust into her glass.

“A brothel?” Hubert blinked hard for several seconds, focusing on Millicent who sat slumped in her chair.

“A spear and a good view is all I’d need if I wanted to stiff an Emperor,” Sangfroid said.

“I fought alongside the Amazons.” Gallo began to compete with Sangfroid. “I took down three steam wolves single-handed. And two lions.”

“A brothel?” Hubert stared harder.

“Believe me, it was a flying and very unwelcome visit,” she assured him. “The place was called the High Tea Temple of Rome. It is a cross between a tax office and a bordello, and we owe it all to Sophia. I have no idea how she instigated such a twisted, self-serving religion, but she somehow managed it.”

“She’s a gem,” Gallo murmured into her glass.

“Can we be sure it was Sophia and not some far-flung look alike?” Hubert asked.

“There were several crossovers with our own culture that could not be explained in any other way.” Millicent listed on her fingers, scones, teacup statues, bustles, and the unmistakable similarity of the Goddess Looselea to Hubert’s fiancée. “Though I found the prayer to her unfathomable. It was very goat centric.”

“Sophia does not like goats. She detests animals of any kind,” Hubert said. “She can barely cope with humans.”

Millicent suppressed a snort. “I am certain she had a hand in the advancement of the Roman Empire’s technology in that other timeline. I’m sure of it. She has done something. It’s too coincidental to be otherwise.”

“Your evidence is circumstantial, but I can’t ignore it. Weena and the squid have their own suspicions, too.”

“Suspicions?” Millicent asked, very alert.

“The space squid feel there is something fundamentally wrong with the Roman Empire.”

“Only because we’re winning the war,” Sangfroid said.

Hubert ignored her. “They suspect a time continuum has been breached,” he said. “They can feel a temporal ripple spreading across the universe, but it seems to travel only as far as the Roman frontline. There it stops.”

“More evidence of chronological mischief making.” Millicent frowned. “The anomaly is somehow attached to the Roman Empire.” She blinked rapidly as if to clear her mind. There were other issues at stake, and so much to talk about. “But you must tell us more about your adventures with Weena. And what on earth has happened to Edna?” she asked. “Is she steam-powered too?” The thought was unsettling.

“It is not Edna as you know her, but an automaton made more or less in her likeness.”

“How on earth did you find the time for that?”

“First, let me explain what this place is, for it is not what you think,” Hubert said and sat back in his seat nursing his glass. Dark thoughts flitted across his face. “You remember I left the dinner table and went upstairs.” He began his story. “Once I understood Weena’s intentions were to take me travelling, there was little time to warn you. We had to be opportune. She had sensed a small fracture in time that would release her from here and was intent on taking me with her. I tried to let you know I was safe, but I see now I failed to convey my acquiescence, leaving you to fear the worst.”

“Your shoes on the landing did indicate a premeditated act, and after the shock subsided, I suppose it did prompt me to go over your notes,” Millicent said. “Unfortunately, before I could properly peruse them, Sophia started up the time machine. The very thing we didn’t want to happen had occurred. She was whisked away to Lord knows where; certainly farther back in time than where we ended up. Presumably she started her cult in some primordial soup kitchen, and we inherited the whole dreadful mess.”

“Millicent, have you ever thought that if we were to fix Sophia’s
mess
, this world might no longer exist?” Hubert said. “In fact, might
never
have existed.”

Millicent was surprised. “Of course it would exist. Why would we not exist?”

Hubert stared at her intently for a moment. “You’re assuming this is
your
world,” he said. He stood, went over to the window, and set his hand upon the drape cord.

“Whatever do you mean?” Millicent stood, all alarm. She did not like the ominous tone in Hubert’s voice.

He pulled the cord and the drapes swung open on the most garish sunset Millicent had ever seen. The sky glowed a vulgar, haemoglobin red.

“Good gracious, what a jarring sunset.” Millicent went over to the window to take a better look. “Oh, it’s not a sunset. What on earth has happened to the London skyline?” As far as the eye could see, chimneystack upon chimneystack crowded in, all rising to hundreds of feet. Some billowed thick black smoke, while others blazed, spitting out spikes of fire so hot the flames burned white in the centre.