Arcadia Snips and the Steamwork Consortium Part 28

"How is that even possible?"

"I do not know," William said.

"Well," Miss Primrose said, moving to give William a hand as he stepped off the deck of the engine. "The banks still have hard copies of all their data, do they not? Certainly, they can merely restore all the information they'll lose."

"The hard copies were kept here, for security reasons,"

William said. "At Mr. Eddington's insistence. They were confiscated only a minutes ago by Orwick's men, shortly after they had taken Miss Snips away. As evidence," William added, frowning in thought.

"Evidence? Why would bank doc.u.ments be considered evidence?"

"I do not know," William said. "However-when all of the banks of Aberwick collapse at the end of today's business, the Steamwork's engine will remain the only available source of bank data."

"How fortunate that you have a pipe network connecting you to every bank in the city," Miss Primrose pointed out.

"Quite fortunate," William agreed, and then he paused.

"Miss Primrose? Is something wrong?"

The woman had grown quite pale. When she spoke, her voice was trembling: "A thought has just occurred to me, Mr. Daffodil."

"Yes?"

"All of the banks in Aberwick are set to fail today at the end of business hours, yes?"

"Yes, Miss Primrose."

"And all of the hard copies of their data have been secreted away by a dubious government bureaucrat," she added, the quaver growing more p.r.o.nounced.

"Er, yes," William said. "I don't quite see what you're getting at-"

"And this engine-the engine we are now standing before -remains the only source of reliable financial information in all of Aberwick," Miss Primrose added.

"Yes, I suppose you are correct-"

She seized William by the arm, pulling him towards the exit. "RUN!"

The silver pocket watch steadily ticked, slicing time into equal increments. The a.s.sa.s.sin flipped it closed with a snap and leaned back in his chair, admiring the sight of the city through the curved gla.s.s that capped the entire front-end of the luxury train.

He glanced over to Snips. The girl was giving him a rather sullen look, hanging upside down from the ceiling-having heard a great deal concerning her abilities to escape constraints, Mr. Peabody had seen to binding her in a straitjacket and rope, as well as a gag. She resembled a coc.o.o.n with only her head poking out from the bottom. On top of this, she had been placed directly above a trap door set to trigger should so much as a mosquito's whisker touch it.

"I want you to know," he told her, "that this isn't about the duck. Or the eye."

"Mmph."

The a.s.sa.s.sin drew one of his throwing knives out of his coat, tapping the blade's tip against eyepatch that now covered the permanently damaged organ. "Really, all things being equal, I actually like you, Arcadia. I think that, if we had met under different circ.u.mstances, we'd get along smashingly."

Snips glared.

The a.s.sa.s.sin rose to his feet. "When you kill people for a living, you get to be pretty good at getting into a fellow's head. Not that I've got you figured, oh no," he quickly added. "But I can sniff out a thing or two about you."

"Most people," he continued, "think that peace and civility are the standard operating procedure. To them, barbarism is an aberration. People like me-people like you-there's something 'wrong' with us." The knife fluttered from one hand to the other as he approached.

"But we know better, don't we? Civilization is the aberration; peace is the odd man out. We both know the distance between a kind word and a knife in your gut," he said, standing close to her now. "We do what we've got to do so we can eat." The a.s.sa.s.sin suddenly grinned. "And you know what, Arcadia? I eat very well."

"Mr. Montgomery," Mr. Peabody interrupted. "Your services are no longer needed here."

The a.s.sa.s.sin straightened as Peabody entered the room. He stepped back in deference, wearing a quick scowl. "I'm busy," he said.

"Your business is not my concern," Mr. Peabody said. "Let us not forget that you've failed on your mission. You remain under my payroll by the grace of my employer alone."

"Oh, come off it. It's not like she turned out to be an issue anyway. And besides, you decided you didn't want me to off her -"

"Regardless, you were unaware of this, and failed," Mr. Peabody responded. "Double-check the length of the train. Ensure that there are no stowaways. From this point on, we will not take on so much as a molecule of unnecessary risk."

The a.s.sa.s.sin scoffed, but obeyed. As he slipped away, Mr. Peabody sighed and sat down besides Snips.

"You must understand," he said, words heavy with regret.

"It was never my desire to see anyone hurt."

"Mmph."

"Of course, I have killed. Mr. Copper was not the first, and he has certainly not been the last," Mr. Peabody explained. "Mr. Eddington became a liability. As did Count Orwick himself."

"Mmphmph."

"Yes, Miss Snips. You have been a particularly difficult liability," Mr. Peabody said, folding his arms over his chest.

"Nevertheless, I am currently under an agreement which prevents me from killing you."

"Mmph."

"If I had known that you were Nigel Arcanum's daughter, I certainly would not have sent a mere a.s.sa.s.sin after you. I would have dealt with you personally."

"Mmnphmph."

"Do you know why the Society was originally founded, Miss Snips? I a.s.sume you must, being the daughter of one of its most prestigious members." Mr. Peabody stood, walking towards Snips. "You must understand our goal, our burden. We are not monsters, Arcadia. We only wish to save you from yourselves." He removed the gag.

Snips instantly spat at him.

It caught Mr. Peabody between the eyes. He grimaced, withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at it carefully. "I suppose," he admitted, "that I should have expected that."

"Hat," Snips snarled.

"Oh, yes. Your precious hat." Mr. Peabody turned and walked towards his seat, where the hat lay. "I think I'll keep it. A token of our meeting."

"Fine. Your funeral," Snips said. "Tell me why you killed him."

"Who? I've killed so many," Mr. Peabody said. "You'll have to be specific."

"Copper," Snips said. "Why did you kill Copper?"

"I sent Mr. Montgomery after him because he obstinately refused to allow Professor Daffodil's technology to be suppressed by the Steamwork. He thought it important enough to seek outside investment. He was an idealist; he either would not or could not understand the danger that the technology posed."

"What danger? Banks can send other banks messages, big deal."

"Financial inst.i.tutions would only be the beginning. In time, his 'telegraph' would spread across borders and even oceans -reducing the distance between all countries of the earth."

"So?"

Mr. Peabody smiled. It was a grim and depressed thing, absent of all pleasure. "What do you think would happen, Miss Snips? What would happen the moment the nations of the world could speak with one another? Do you think all our differences and quibbles would suddenly vanish?"

Snips opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it. She knew the answer Daffodil would probably give; some long-winded speech concerning how it would eventually bring the world together and could only ultimately be a good thing. But Snips knew better.

"No. People would just get to argue faster," Snips said.

"And louder."

Mr. Peabody's smile grew. "Indeed. Imagine, if you will, a world where war can be declared in an instant-troops deployed on no more than a whimsical tantrum. Imagine a world where the leaders of nations may talk immediately and without delay-and rediscover just how much it is they loathe one another."

"Yet another step toward a great and terrible war," Snips said.

"A war to end all others," he agreed.

"Is that why you let Eddington keep all the technology under the Steamwork? Because he was suppressing it? Because it slowed down progress?"

"Yes. Mr. Eddington proved quite sufficient for this task, although I'm afraid his usefulness is now at an end. The poor fool thought we intended to profit by collapsing every engine but his own; he remained oblivious to our true intentions until the very end. We've found another means to prevent the coming of the Great War," Mr. Peabody said.

Snips narrowed her eyes. "What have you done?"

"We have refined our approach, Miss Snips. Iron and steel may be what governs the present, but in the future it will be mathematics that will make and break nations," Mr. Peabody said.

"And we intend to break this one."

"But Hemlock's equations were annoying, not dangerous,"

Snips said. "Unless-"

"Your a.s.signment to this case forced my hand, Miss Snips.

I realized that there was a chance, however small, that you could unearth my plot. Orwick was a dinosaur, but he was brilliant nevertheless; he foresaw your potential success. It is why I sought your demise and consigned both he and my other a.s.sociates to the dustbins of history-my plan to topple Aberwick's banks had to be quickened."

"But you can't topple a bank in a few days," Snips said.

"...can you?"

"Each of my equations that Mr. Eddington so helpfully inserted inside of the banks was part of a grander plot which I intended to unleash in the distant future," Mr. Peabody explained.

"However, when I realized that I could be discovered, I merely hastened my pace. My a.s.sociates inserted 'trigger' account exploits into each of Aberwick's six banks, activating my mathematical time-bombs. By the end of Aberwick's business hours, each and every bank account will be reset to zero."

Snips stared. "You can't be serious. Aberwick is the financial capital of the Isle, Mr. Peabody. If you bring that down..."

"Oh, yes. It will bring about a financial crisis of unheard proportions," Mr. Peabody agreed. "And it will buy the Society a decade-perhaps more-to prepare our plans to prevent the war."

"Governments will collapse. Businesses will fail. People will starve," Snips said, barely able to contain her ire.

"All for the greater good, Miss Snips. All to prevent a cataclysm of unspeakable proportions."

Snips grew quiet and morose. Thinking that he had subdued her, Mr. Peabody rose to leave; suddenly, Snips spoke. Her voice had a quiet quality of command to it that gave him pause despite the fact that she was well beyond any possibility of escape.

"Mr. Peabody?"

"Yes, Miss Snips?"

"I want you to know something. I want you to know that I'm going to escape. And I'm going to find you." Snips clenched her teeth. "And then? I'm going to take my hat back."

"I'm sure," Mr. Peabody said, laughing. He picked her hat up, setting it on his head. "I'll even keep it warm for you."

He left Snips to hang.

CHAPTER 28: IN WHICH A DARING RESCUE IS HATCHED, RAILS ARE PROVEN UNNECESSARY, PIGEONS ARE UNLEASHED, AND MR. CHEEK MAKES A MISTAKE OF THE SECOND TYPE.

Beneath the Steamwork, sc.r.a.ps of heated metal smoldered.

The scene was one of devastation. Cracked cogs and smoking gears littered the floor like the shattered remnants of broken tinker toys. Sheets of iron had been bent beneath the concussive force, twisted into gnarled shapes. A choking cloud of suffocating smoke swirled through the chamber.

Miss Primrose stood up from beneath a pile of molten shrapnel.

Her face was covered in soot and her clothes were charred.

The sound of the explosion that had ripped through the calculation engine still rang in her ears. She reached down and rummaged in the pile next to her until she found a mop of fair hair. She tangled her fingers into it and seized William by the roots, pulling the spluttering mathematician out of the heap of ash.

William cried out. "What happened?!"