Infinity Bell: A House Immortal Novel (20 page)

But first we’d need time if we were going to save our asses.

“And do you also agree to bend knee to me and my rule, Abraham Seventh?” he asked.

Abraham was a stubborn, prideful man, for all the humblest of things he had done for the people in this world. He had sacrificed his own life and freedom for the lives and freedom of others. But I didn’t think he was going to do Reeves any favors.

“I will not stand in the way of House Brown following Matilda and Quinten Case’s orders,” Abraham said.

It was much more than I’d expected him to concede. It was not a yes. It was nowhere near a yes, but it was not exactly a no either. I just hoped it was enough to satisfy Reeves.

“That is a very hesitant acceptance,” Reeves noted.

“I follow my sister’s word,” Quinten said, with a timely interruption. “As does House Brown. You will have us, Reeves Silver, if anyone in this world can.”

“In return,” I said, “you will release our grandmother, and you, Boston Sue, and all your damned snipers and guards will get off our property. This land is ours. We keep it. We own it. We will bow to you, and we will give you our service and do what we can to convince House Brown to listen to you, but this land remains ours. Is that enough of an agreement?”

He considered it for what felt like an hour. How long had we been talking, negotiating? How much time did we really have left?

“Yes,” he said. “It will do.” He stepped away from the fireplace. “There’s just one more thing.”

Guards rushed back into the room, guns trained on each of us.

I twitched toward my weapon.

Reeves raised his voice. “Uh-uh. You are outnumbered, and they are in full body armor and shock shields. Your bullets will do them no damage. They, however, are armed with hollow-point and Shelley dust rounds.”

He strolled up behind Grandma and patted her shoulder. “The lovely elder Case will be coming with me.”

“What’s that?” Grandma said, craning her neck to look at him. “Do I know you?”

“We’re going for a ride,” Reeves said, “And so are you, Abraham Seventh.”

“No,” I said, the wind knocked out of me. “That wasn’t the deal. Grandma stays here. Abraham stays here.”

“I’ll go,” Abraham said.

“You will not,” I said.

He turned to me. “I will. I’m sure it won’t be long before I see you again.”

Time travel.
If we could still trigger our way into the past, maybe this would all be different. Maybe we’d have time to save Mom and Dad, save Oscar, save Grandma and Abraham, and stay out of this mess completely.

If it worked.

We didn’t have the journal. We didn’t have any kind of guarantee.

This might actually be the last time I saw him.

“Don’t,” I said. “Please.”

“This isn’t good-bye,” Abraham said.

“And if it is?”

His eyes clouded. “I’ll find you again. No matter how long it takes me. I promise you that.”

“You will return our grandmother to us,” Quinten said to Reeves. “Unharmed, as soon as we make our announcements to House Brown.”

“Of course, of course,” Reeves Silver said, looking between Abraham and me and seeing far more than I wanted him to see.

“You have a week,” he continued. “Get the message out. Tell House Brown they will be following you in following me.”

He snapped his fingers, and two guards moved forward and put their hands on Grandma’s arms to help her out of the chair.

“Matilda?” she asked as the sheep tumbled to the floor and ran around in circles, bleating pitifully. “Why are there men here? So many men?”

“It’s okay, Grandma. Abraham and you are going for a ride. He’ll look after you.” It was a lie. I knew Reeves
wouldn’t let Abraham anywhere near her. I knew Abraham, in volunteering to go with Reeves, had just signed himself up for torture, imprisonment, or worse.

“Here now, Mrs. Case,” Abraham said kindly. “Let me walk with you.”

He gave the guards a look, telling them to stand aside. To my surprise, they glanced at Reeves, who nodded.

Accusing galvanized of being criminals did not wipe out the decades the galvanized had been seen as stars, warriors, and an authority second only to the heads of Houses. So I supposed it was no wonder that the guards stepped aside respectfully and let Abraham help Grandma out of the house.

“One week,” Reeves said as he walked to the door. “I expect results. Don’t disappoint me.”

Boston Sue followed him out the door, and then the guards all walked out too.

“Son of a bitch,” I said. I strode to the door and watched as Abraham, Grandma, Reeves, and several guards climbed into a heli that was ready for takeoff. The rest of the guards climbed into vehicles.

Lizard was thrashing its way through the barn, throwing hay and beams and cockatrice into the sky. It was raining harder now, lightning stitching across the clouds.

“We have to stop them,” I said. “Quinten, we have to do something.”

“Nothing we do will matter if we don’t get downstairs. Now.” He jogged down the hall.

“Neds, keep an eye on Lizard, okay?” I said before following Quinten. “It should wear itself out soon since there aren’t any more people to smash, but if it looks like it’s headed our way, yell.”

“Got it,” he said.

I jogged the hall. Quinten had left the door open. I took the wooden steps down into what used to be our secret communications hub for House Brown.

“Oh no,” I said softly.

Reeves and his men had torn the place apart. They had smashed everything: screens, satellite links, radios, video feed, telephones, telegraphs—everything. What had once been an amazing blend of high and old tech— brass, wood, rubber, wire, slick plastics, crystal, and glass carefully gathered together, maintained, and restored— now looked like a shattered junk pile.

“We can still make this work,” Quinten said, righting a table that had been thrown on its side. “We can do this.”

I didn’t think we could, but I didn’t tell him that. We had—what—an hour left?

“What do you need from me?” I asked.

“Welton.” He hurried to the tool cabinet in the back of the room and scrounged through it. “Get Welton. Quickly!”

I rushed up the stairs, checked the living room. “All clear?”

“We’re good,” Gloria said. “Quinten?”

“He could probably use a hand. Down the open door at the end of the hall.”

Gloria started that way. I jogged to the kitchen.

“Where you going?” Left Ned called out.

“Welton.” I jogged out the door and ran down the familiar path to the pump house. Lizard must have calmed down some. It was raining hard and the wind had picked up quite a bit. I didn’t hear any demolition or
screams of people being smashed. The blades of the heli were already out of my range of hearing and so were the engines of the vehicles full of soldiers.

Just moments ago, we’d been surrounded. We were still surrounded. I knew Reeves must have left snipers on the ground and drones in the air to watch us. But right now the only thing I could do to make any of this better was to get Welton to help my brother fix the device that would give us a loophole to travel in time.

If that worked, I would be the one going back in time instead of Quinten. I would try to convince Alveré Case to change his experiment. To make it right so I didn’t die.

This is crazy.

Grandma was in Reeves’ hands. Abraham would be tried as a murderer.

My brain was so tied up in the tangle of worries that I didn’t even see the man who stood at the turn in the path until I was almost upon him.

Robert Twelfth—or, rather, Slater Orange—raised a gun at my head. “Take me to your brother—now.”

Quinten was gone for a while again. He doesn’t think I know what he’s doing, what he’s looking for, or how dangerous it is.

—from the diary of E. N. D.

I
t occurred to me that an awful lot of people who had been or were currently heads of Houses were now on my property, waving around guns and telling me what to do.

I had had enough of it.

“Put the damn gun down,” I said, wiping the rain out of my eyes. “Shooting me won’t get you anything. If you want to see my brother, if you want to live, then get out of my way, Slater.”

His face twisted up into a snarl I’d never seen on the kinder Robert, who had once been behind those eyes.

“You will not give me orders, filth,” he said.

“Filth?” I repeated. “Fine. Let’s do this. Do you know what my brother was looking for before you locked him up? Do you know why he risked hiring himself out to all the Houses—yours included—so he could have access to their histories?”

“He was looking for your grandmother’s journal,” Slater said. “I am not a fool.”

“Good. Then I’ll only have to say this once. In her journal was the calculations for the Wings of Mercury experiment. An experiment that killed everyone in a fifty-mile radius, except for the thirteen people who went on to become galvanized.

“You are wearing one of those bodies, and you think it’s immortal. Well, it isn’t. Today, in less than an hour, we are going to have to deal with the repercussion of time being broken. When time snicks back into place and all the galvanized die, our three-hundred-year extension on life will be over. The bill is up. Done. And you’ll be dead.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care. Dead is dead. Get out of my way while I’m still asking you nice.”

The snap of a broken branch made Slater spin.

Just in time to see Foster First rush out of the brush, straight at him.

Slater fired half a dozen shots into the big man. But Foster kept coming. He swung a huge fist and clocked Slater so hard, the slighter man was lifted off his feet before he slammed into the wet ground. That blow would have snapped a man’s neck. If Slater weren’t in a galvanized body, he’d be dead.

I scrambled for the gun that flew out of his hand, dug it out of the brush, then turned it on Slater before he regained his feet.

“Just stay down,” I ordered.

Foster stood above him, rain soaking the hat Welton had made him wear and sending rivulets down along his
stitches, his scars. His fists were locked at his sides. Hatred burned in his eyes.

“Thanks, Foster,” I said. “Is Welton around?”

Right about then I heard footsteps. Welton walked up the path at an even pace, his breathing more labored than it should be, a slap of red spreading from his cheeks out across his wet pale face.

“Was coming to get you,” I said. “Quinten needs you at the house, quick.”

He nodded, then stopped just behind and to the side of Foster, looking down at Slater.

“So, you found a way, didn’t you?” he asked, searching Robert’s face for signs of the transplanted Slater Orange. “A way out of that death-trap body of yours you filled with chemicals to keep alive. But this solution is cruel. You murdered a man when you implanted Robert Twelfth into your dying body.”

“Galvanized aren’t men,” Slater said.

“I’ve never agreed with that,” Welton said. “But you know the laws. Galvanized can’t rule. You will never be the head of a House. Reeves Silver is just using you. He will kill you and take over House Orange the moment it suits him.”

“
I
will be the first galvanized to rise to power,” Slater said. “I am immortal. I have all the time I need to make the world mine.” He stabbed at his chest. “I will continue long after you mewling mortals are dust and forgotten.”

Welton’s eyes flicked up to me. “Did you tell him about the time break?”

“Yep.”

“Did you tell him he’s about to be dead?”

“He had too much megalomania in his ears to hear me.”

Welton flashed me a bright grin. “He’s always been a little tight-screwed.”

“Well, right now he’s in my way.”

“Oh?” Welton waved a couple fingers toward Foster. “We need him to be quiet.”

Slater pushed back, trying to get his feet under him, real terror on his face as Foster grabbed hold of his shirt in one hand and pounded him in the face with the other until he was unconscious.

“Will that do?” Welton asked.

“Perfectly. I have rope at the house. Let’s talk and walk.”

Welton patted Foster’s shoulder. “I’ve wanted you to hit Slater in the face for years,” he said. “I’m just sorry it’s your friend’s body he’s wearing. Are you okay, buddy?”

Foster looked like he still wanted to pound something, but he gave Welton a grunt and a rusty nod.

“Good,” Welton said. “How about you pick him up and bring him along?”

Foster bent and picked up Slater as if he didn’t weigh any more than a wet kitten.

We headed back to the house as quickly as Welton could walk. Which wasn’t nearly fast enough for my spinning thoughts.

Less than an hour left.

“I was coming your way for a reason,” I said. “Quinten wanted you.”

“Do you know why?”

“Reeves destroyed our equipment.”

“Reeves? As in, Head of House Silver Reeves?”

“He was here. You were right: those guards were his. He held our grandmother hostage.”

“Where is he now?”

“Gone. With Grandma and Abraham.”

“Reeves Silver has Abraham?” Welton stopped talking for a short distance so he could get his breathing under control. “Why did he leave you here?”

“He wants us to sign House Brown over to him.”

I didn’t know if Welton was taking a little time to think that over or if he just didn’t have any extra breath. We were nearly to the house when he spoke again.

“I always thought he had his thumb on House Brown,” he said. “All the smuggling rings and so on.”

“Nothing official that I’ve heard about,” I said. “All the Houses use members of House Brown to get what they want. Mostly none of us care, since House Brown is just folk trying to get by on their own. If a House hires them for legal or illegal work . . . Well, I can understand doing something because you need to keep food on the table.”

“Still . . . odd,” Welton said.

“To negotiate with us and tell us to step down from running House Brown?” I said. “Not that odd. A lot of people trust Quinten and me to give them good information. With the Houses currently in such chaos, a lot of House Brown is going to hole up, pull stakes, and hide away until things sort out. Those who remain in contact with the outside world will be looking for clean information from us. Reeves wants to be in control of what information we give them.”

“There’s more,” Welton said. “Must be more that he wants.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” I said. “Right now, I don’t care.”

We’d finally made it to the house, taking a good ten minutes for a walk that shouldn’t have taken more than half that. Ten minutes we didn’t have to spare.

I glanced at Slater, who was still unconscious in Foster’s arms. I didn’t think he’d wake up before we handled the time situation, but just in case, I wanted him tied down tight. Slater might not be a man who knew how to physically fight, but that body he was wearing was just as uncommonly strong as mine was.

I pushed open the kitchen door and nearly walked into Ned’s shotgun.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Neds asked, the barrel of the gun notching toward Slater.

“Taking over the world, apparently,” I said. “Drop him in a chair, Foster. We’ll truss him up.”

Foster pulled a chair out with his foot and dumped Slater unceremoniously into it.

“Neds, get the rope,” I said. “The strong stuff. And remember he’s galvanized and can snap that chair if he flexes right. So don’t be shy with the knots.”

“I know how to keep a man still,” Left Ned said, “stitched or otherwise.”

“Good.” I measured Welton’s breathing. It seemed a little less labored. “Think you can handle some stairs?”

“Up?” he asked with a little dread.

“Basement.”

“Lead the way.”

Foster took a step to follow us, but Welton shook his
head. “Stay here and watch him.” He pointed at Slater. “I’ll be fine with Matilda.”

Foster frowned, and his pink eyes flicked up to meet my gaze.

“I’ll make sure he sits and rests,” I said. “We need his brains more than anything else right now. I can do whatever repair work needs to be done on the equipment.”

Foster reluctantly moved back closer to Slater, positioning himself within punching range. Between Foster’s obvious dislike of the man and Neds’ shoot-first-and-apologize-never attitude, I wasn’t sure what kind of shape Slater was going to be in when we came back upstairs.

If we came back upstairs. Time was falling away, faster and faster. We had—what—thirty minutes?

“And tell Neds to frisk him, okay?” I said to Foster. “If Slater was stupid enough to bring our grandmother’s journal out with him, it’d be all kinds of useful.”

I led Welton down the hall and through the open door to the basement.

He took a deep breath at the top of the stairs and then walked down them at a steady pace, his hand gripping the rail.

“How’s it going?” I asked, following Welton.

“Just fine,” Quinten said. “I should have it up and running in a month.” He was crouched in front of the crate-sized timetable he’d made. It seemed to be in one piece, though it canted slightly to the right, one wooden foot on one corner broken off. He didn’t seem concerned about the casing that surrounded the invention.

Instead he’d pulled out yards of wires, bits of metal and glass, and thin, flexible tubes filled with liquid. I had
no idea what any of it did or was supposed to do, and wouldn’t begin to guess which parts of it might be broken.

Gloria stood next to him, a cloth packet of tools spread out on a table next to her. She had a calm but sort of grim expression, as if she knew the patient wasn’t going to pull through but the doctor hadn’t figured that out yet.

“This is, well, this
was
impressive,” Welton said, stepping out into the rubble of our dreams. “I knew you had your hands on most of the modern communication and computing technology, but a telegraph?” He walked over to the huge wooden desk that was demolished, where the telegraph key lay on top of the debris. “And is that a . . . shortwave radio?” He chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Delightful!” he declared. “What other old tricks did you have up your sleeves? Smoke signals and lanterns in the night?”

“All we have right now,” Quinten said, “is a problem. How much research did you really do into the Wings of Mercury experiment?”

Welton walked over to where my brother was systematically soldering wires into a network of plastics and crystals and rare metals he had carefully balanced on a tray across his lap.

I jogged over to the broken bank of screens over the curved desk and picked up a chair. I brought it over for Welton.

“I scoured every record and lead I could find,” Welton said. “It was the beginning of Foster’s experimentation, and I wanted to know the source of it. Before I gave him any modifications, I wanted make sure I wasn’t doing him any harm.”

“So, you know how time broke?”

“No, not at all.”

I offered him the chair, and Welton nodded his thanks and sat. “You do know it’s mostly myth and legend, that experiment? The records, the
real
hard evidence, has been lost, and the scattered mentions and notes that survived in the histories are suppositions and hearsay.”

Quinten didn’t stop, didn’t even pause in what he was doing. “The journal was the records,” he said.

“We don’t have the journal,” Welton said.

“I understand the situation,” Quinten said, carefully placing a thin glass tube with wires attached at both ends back into the cabinet. “And I’m as certain as I can be that my calculations will change the event so that we all don’t die in a few minutes.”

“Wait,” I said. “What do you mean,
we all don’t die
? You told me when the break in time mends, it will just be the galvanized who die.”

“I omitted some details,” he said.

“You
lied
to me?”

“No, I just didn’t tell you all of the outcomes.”

“That’s called lying.”

“What,” Gloria said, “is going to happen, Quin? If you don’t fix that? If time mends without us doing anything about it?”

He carried on with what he was doing, steady hands, steady progress, like a man who had only moments to defuse a bomb. And I supposed that was pretty close to what he was doing—only the bomb was time, and his wire cutter was a pile of broken junk on the floor.

“The blast will kill everyone in an hundred-mile radius. Maybe a thousand.”

A thousand-mile radius would wipe out most of the big cities on the eastern seashore, and everything between here and the Mississippi.

“Thousands,” I breathed.

“Millions,” Welton said. “Millions will die.”

“How much time do we have left?” I asked.

Gloria looked at my brother’s pocket watch. “Eighteen minutes.”