“Find M-zero-three.”
The voice flowing from inside the pipe cut off after those words.
Aaron didn’t move for a while.
The thick steam pipe running along the wall had become an ordinary machine again. All that remained was a low vibration and the sound of cooling metal.
He looked down at the black notebook on the desk.
The code written on the last page.
M-03.
And the request left by the researcher who had just died.
It didn’t take much deduction to realize they pointed to the same thing.
The problem was where to look.
The Royal Institute of Power Research had more storage rooms than laboratories. Every device had a number, and even a single component left an asset record. If M-03 was the management code for an engine or automaton, there would be a trace of it in the records office.
Aaron closed the notebook.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
He was about to put the notebook back beneath the false bottom of the drawer when he stopped.
Ria had told him to find Johann’s belongings and bring them to her first.
It was safer to follow her instructions.
At least on the surface.
Aaron slipped the notebook inside his coat. Buttoning it up with his bandaged hand took twice as long as usual.
The door opened.
“Are you finished organizing?”
Ria entered the room.
Aaron looked at the remaining stack of papers on the desk.
“Does it look like I am?”
“I thought contract researchers learned to report unfinished work as finished before anything else.”
“Today I learned to keep accurate records.”
Ria’s gaze fell on the open drawer beneath the desk.
“Did you find something?”
“I found a broken drawer.”
“That’s been broken for three years.”
“Looks like no one was available to fix it.”
Ria didn’t answer.
She approached the drawer. Aaron shifted to the side as casually as he could. The notebook inside his coat pressed against his ribs.
“Johann was good at hiding things,” Ria said.
“I heard he was someone who left a lot of records.”
“He left a lot, and just as much was taken from him.”
“Who took it?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I didn’t get many answers today.”
Ria looked at Aaron.
Her gaze lingered briefly on his coat buttons.
He felt like he’d been found out.
But Ria didn’t hold out her hand.
“Your afternoon assignment has changed.”
“An accident investigation?”
“Waste inspection.”
She held out a thin sheet of paper.
Safety inspection of the adjacent storage area following the Seventh Applied Engines Lab accident.
The inspection site was the abandoned-assets warehouse on Basement Level Two.
Aaron checked the approval stamp at the bottom of the document.
“Is a contract researcher supposed to inspect the basement warehouse on the day of an accident?”
“They told you not to use your hands, so they’re giving you work you can do with your eyes.”
“Am I going alone?”
“I’m going with you.”
Ria folded the document.
“Otherwise, you can stay here and wait for the revised accident report.”
The safer option was obvious.
The problem was that the safer option looked more suspicious.
Aaron rose from his seat.
“I’ll go downstairs.”
“Wise choice.”
“I figured discarded equipment would be easier to reason with than a report.”
Ria let out a very small breath.
It was difficult to tell whether it was a laugh or a sigh.
The farther they descended beneath the Royal Institute of Power Research, the heavier the air became.
The mid-level research area smelled of lubricating oil and hot metal. On Basement Level One, the smell of coal dust mixed in. On Basement Level Two, the distinctive sweet scent of old aether lingered at the tip of his nose.
Ria tapped her access card against the steel door at the foot of the stairs.
The red light blinked twice.
ACCESS DENIED.
She tapped her card again.
The door still didn’t open.
“Even a Senior Researcher can’t get in?”
“I could yesterday.”
Ria’s voice lowered.
“Looks like they blocked access because of today’s accident.”
“They issued a work order and blocked the access privileges.”
“Research administration is sometimes more sophisticated than the machines. They let only the people who’ll take responsibility inside and leave anyone who might see the evidence outside.”
Aaron examined the lock beside the steel door.
He felt a faint vibration beneath the brass plate. It wasn’t an electronic lock but a pressure-pin mechanism. Once the access card was approved, a thin burst of steam pressure pushed the latch aside.
He leaned closer and listened.
“What do you hear?”
“Pressure is getting through.”
“Then why won’t it open?”
“The latch isn’t retracting.”
Aaron looked beneath the door. A thin layer of black dust had settled on the floor. Only the area directly in front of the gap had been swept away in a half-moon shape.
Someone had opened the door from the inside recently.
“Someone came out from inside recently.”
Ria’s eyes dropped to the floor.
“Did they clear out the warehouse after the accident?”
“They couldn’t have cleared out everything.”
Aaron raised his bandaged hand.
“Not while I can’t use my hands.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re the one opening the door, Senior Researcher.”
He indicated the small emergency vent beneath the locking mechanism with his chin.
“Try loosening that screw half a turn.”
Ria turned the screw with a skeptical expression.
Hiss.
Trapped steam escaped.
The latch inside dropped with a clunk.
The steel door opened a finger’s width.
Ria looked at Aaron.
“You said this was your first time seeing the door.”
“Most things break in similar ways.”
“You say that often.”
“Because I’m often right.”
Ria pushed the door open.
The abandoned-assets warehouse on Basement Level Two was larger than Aaron had expected.
The ceiling was low and the aisles narrow. Shelves on both sides were stacked with disassembled automatons, discarded engines, glass tubes, and instrument panels. Some items still had asset tags attached. The numbers had been scratched off others.
Ria lit the gaslamp beside the entrance.
The light flickered once, then pushed back the darkness.
“There are twelve items on the inspection list.”
“There may be thirteen things we need to find.”
Ria’s gaze swung back to him.
Aaron pretended to accept the papers.
“Do you know the asset code M-03?”
Only after asking did the notebook inside his coat begin to feel heavier.
Ria’s reaction was immediate.
“Where did you see it?”
“There was a scratch inside the nameplate of a compression engine.”
It wasn’t a complete lie.
The information had come from something he’d seen today, after all.
Ria stared at Aaron for several seconds.
“It was a guide automaton.”
“A guide for the research institute?”
“An early model. It handled voice guidance and visitor records. It was scrapped a long time ago.”
“Why?”
“It broke down too often.”
“What kind of breakdowns?”
Instead of answering, Ria walked farther down the aisle.
“Let’s start the inspection.”
Aaron followed, reading the asset numbers on the shelves.
A-12.
K-04.
The codes continued through power-assist devices and measuring instruments.
There was no sign of the M series.
At the end of the aisle sat an empty cart. Fresh oil coated its wheels.
Someone had moved discarded equipment sometime today.
Ria seemed to notice it too.
“We’re late,” she muttered.
“Late for what?”
“For the inspection.”
The answer came quickly, but meant nothing.
They checked the devices listed on the inventory. Three damaged engines, four aether concentration meters, and two automatic writing machines.
The eleventh item was an empty shelf.
Only the asset tag remained.
M-03.
Aaron pulled the tag off.
“I thought it had been scrapped.”
Ria stepped closer.
Beneath the asset tag was a transfer approval stamp.
The transfer date was today.
The destination was blank.
“Someone took it.”
“Discarded equipment doesn’t get moved without a destination.”
“According to the records, it does.”
Aaron examined the floor beneath the shelf.
Cart-wheel tracks marked the dust. They led not toward the entrance but toward the back wall of the warehouse.
There was no door in the wall.
He told Ria to raise the gaslamp.
She lowered the light.
The wheel tracks stopped behind a metal shelf.
Aaron examined the side of the shelf. One of the floor bolts was newer than the others.
“This shelf moves.”
“Don’t use your hands.”
Ria grabbed the side handle instead.
The shelf slid aside with a heavy grinding sound.
A narrow maintenance passage was revealed behind it.
It was barely wide enough for one person.
A faint blue light leaked from deeper inside the passage.
Aaron tried to enter first.
Ria caught him by the shoulder.
“Stay behind me.”
“Are you protecting me today?”
“If an injured contract researcher causes another accident, the report will get longer.”
Ria led the way.
That wasn’t the whole reason.
She had her right hand inside her coat. She wasn’t reaching for a nameplate. Her hand was wrapped around the grip of a small defensive steam gun.
At the end of the passage was a makeshift workshop.
Disassembly tools, wires, and aether batteries were scattered across the floor. Someone had left in a hurry.
In the center of the room sat a little girl in a chair.
More precisely, it was an automaton shaped like a little girl.
Faded silver hair. Closed eyes. A worn guide’s uniform. The membrane covering the joints at its neck and wrists had peeled away, revealing brass joints beneath that mimicked human skin.
A small asset tag was attached to its chest.
M-03.
“We found it,” Aaron said.
Ria didn’t look pleased.
“This shouldn’t be possible.”
“Wasn’t it supposed to be scrapped?”
“I removed its power core myself three years ago.”
Aaron looked at the automaton’s chest.
Blue light pulsed between the overlapping metal plates arranged like ribs.
Like a slow heartbeat.
Once.
Then again.
Someone had installed a new power core.
Aaron crouched in front of the automaton.
“Don’t touch it.”
“I’m not planning to use my hands.”
He brought his ear close to the automaton’s chest.
Ordinary automatons made a steady rotating sound when their power cores were running. But inside M-03, two kinds of sound overlapped.
The vibration of an engine.
And a very slow breath.
“This isn’t a guide automaton.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no voice device inside.”
Ria’s face stiffened.
“Are you sure?”
“The space where the resonance plate should be is empty. There’s no memory-storage module either.”
Then this automaton couldn’t speak.
It couldn’t remember, either.
Aaron was just about to stand when M-03’s fingers moved.
The brass joints caught hold of Aaron’s coat sleeve.
Ria drew her steam gun.
“Get away from it!”
Aaron couldn’t move.
The automaton’s eyelids slowly lifted.
Blue light trembled inside its glass eyes.
Its lips parted.
A man’s voice came from the throat where no voice device existed.
“Aaron.”
It was his name.
A name he hadn’t spoken even once in this room.
M-03 tightened its grip on Aaron’s sleeve.
“This time, don’t open the valve.”