The Marriage Machine (3 page)

“You haven’t opened your envelope?” Amelie swooped down and grabbed it. “I can’t believe you, El, I really can’t.”

Elspeth sighed. “Why would I want to know the date of my last day of freedom?”

“Oh, El! You have to grow up some day.” Amelie shook her head as she ripped the silver paper and drew out a card. Her face went white. “Oh, my!”

“What?” Aunt Fi blurted, a piece of cake balanced precariously on her fork.

Even Elspeth’s curiosity was piqued. She glanced at her cousin.

“You’ve got a holiday date.” Amelie looked back down at the engraved card. “December 25
^th
in fact. C-Day. Oh, my word, Elspeth!” She fluttered a plump hand in front of her face, as if she were overheating with the news.

Elspeth stared at her cousin, completely baffled by Amelie’s excitement. She knew all there was to know about pistons and valves, but she was completely ignorant when it came to the social aspects of life. She had no idea why a C-Day wedding was significant. “And that means?”

“Only the loftiest citizens are married on C-Day. The date is in such demand and so auspicious for a good marriage that only the upper crust is married then. Your groom must be an Overseer agent or at least a commissioner.” Amelie’s eyes gleamed. “You are so lucky! You won’t have to work the rest of your life—I’ll bet on it!”

Not working sounded like a prison sentence. Elspeth jumped to her feet. “Too bad you’re going to lose that wager. I’m not going through with the ceremony.”

“What?” her aunt sat back in her chair, appalled.

“I am warning you, Aunt Fi, I’m not going to go through with it.”

“But you can’t refuse. It’s unheard of.” Aunt Fi fluttered her hand in front of her face just as her daughter was doing.

“I’m going to be the first woman to say no.”

“El!” Amelie gasped. “You can’t do such a thing.”

“I mean no disrespect to either of you or the lives you lead. In fact, I will never be able to repay the kindness you showed me by taking me in after Father died.”

“We couldn’t have done any less,” Aunt Fi replied.

“But that machine does something to a woman’s mind.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It allows a woman to conceive.” Amelie hugged her son. “I wouldn’t have Benjamin without the Marriage Machine. And I can’t imagine not having him.”

“Well I can’t imagine marrying a stranger. And I won’t have some man thinking he can tell me how to live my life.”

Amelie paled and looked away.

Elspeth wouldn’t let her turn away as she had done so many times since her marriage. She stepped directly in front of her cousin. “I am referring to your job, Amelie. You loved that job. You loved working at the newspaper. Tell me you didn’t.”

“My child is more important than any job.”

“And who decided that?” Elspeth demanded. She planted her fists on her hips and leaned down to confront Amelie face-to-face. “You or Edward?”

“We both did,” Amelie stammered. “At least, I’m pretty sure we discussed it.” Her voice trailed off.

“Don’t remember?” Elspeth chided.

“Not exactly, but—“

“That’s just my point!” Elspeth crossed her arms over her chest. “The machine does that to a woman. I bet you hardly argued your case with Edward—if at all.”

“Elspeth, please,” her aunt put in. “Let her be. It’s for the best having her home with the baby. And it’s your birthday. Let’s just get along for once, shall we?”

Elspeth sighed and plopped back down on the couch.

Aunt Fi patted her hand again. “Please, Elspeth, don’t do anything rash. Please think this through, dear.”

“I have thought of little else for the past year, Aunt Fi. Believe me.”

“What will you do?” Amelie had gone very pale.

Elspeth shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. But there’s one thing I know I
won’t
be doing and that is showing up at,” she grabbed the card and glanced at the silver script. “Boswellian Bower on December 25 at 4 o’clock.”

“You’ll be ruined,” Aunt Fi put in.

“They might even send you away,” Amelie added. “What if you had to work in the coal mines in Norsea for the rest of your life? We would never see you again.”

“It would be better than spreading my legs for some weasel who thinks he
owns
me for the rest of my life.”

“Elspeth, really!”

“Sorry, Aunt Fi. But that’s how I see it. Thanks for the cake.” Elspeth hurried from the parlor and ran up the narrow stairs to her tiny bedchamber under the roof. She had to get away from people who would never understand her. And that might possibly be the entire population of Londo City.

Solitude was not to be hers, however. Before Elspeth could strip off her work clothes, she heard a loud banging at the front door and insistent voices down below. Elspeth froze.

“Elspeth?” Her aunt called from the bottom of the stairs. She could hear alarm in her aunt’s voice.

Panic streaked through Elspeth. She had planned to run away a few days before the ceremony and lose herself in the Outskirts. But they had come for her sooner than she had anticipated, and there was no way to escape from her bedroom—certainly not from the tiny first story window behind her. She had no choice but to face whomever it was in the parlor. Swallowing hard, Elspeth trudged down the steps.

Two officers of the law stood in the parlor with lamplight glinting off the metal buttons of their uniforms and the handles of their enforcement clubs. As she gained the last stair, they turned in her direction.

“Elspeth Shutterhouse?” The taller one barked.

“Yes?”

“You are under arrest.”

“What?” Aunt Fi’s hands flew to her cheeks in shock.

Elspeth couldn’t believe it, either. How could anyone have discovered what she had done in so short a time?

“On what charge?” she demanded.

The officer’s handlebar mustache curled close to his nose as he shot her a look of disdain. “You have been accused by an upstanding citizen of committing a crime.”

“What kind of crime?”

“Theft and transport of unlawful goods.”

“What are you talking about?” Elspeth feigned cool ignorance while she burned like a brand on the inside. There was only one person in the world that could have possibly turned her in to the authorities: that bastard Ramsay.

“Don’t make it worse for yourself, citizen, by feigning ignorance.” The officer looped a restraining cord around her wrists. “You were seen burying stolen property in broad daylight.”

“You must be mistaken,” Aunt Fi cried. “Elspeth would never steal.”

“You can’t take her!” Amelie put in. “It’s her birthday!”

“I suggest you hire an advocate, madame.” The officer glared at Aunt Fi. “That is, if you haven’t spent your entire fortune on
cake
.” He yanked Elspeth toward the door.

“Elspeth!” Aunt Fi cried. Tears burst from her eyes as she lunged for her niece. But the officers wouldn’t allow the women to hug each other good-bye. Elspeth took a good long look at her family, knowing she might never see them again. Remorse washed over her. She had expected to pay a price for her rash actions, but it had never occurred to her to consider how her decision might devastate her aunt.

That was the worst of it—watching her beloved Aunt Fi fall to the floor in a dead faint, and not being able to help her. While Amelie blubbered and Benjamin wailed, the officers jostled Elspeth out of the house, shoved her into the back of their chugger wagon, and took her to the station a mile away.

Elspeth spent another night huddled on a hard surface, this time on a bench in a detention cell. She was too worried about the future to sleep, and jumped to her feet the moment she spotted a warden walking her way down the dark corridor. She had no idea how long she’d been held. Her father’s pocket watch had been taken from her, and there were no windows in the cellblock to allow her to gauge the passage of time.

The warden didn’t even look at her as he turned a key in the lock and pulled at the barred door. It opened with a screech. He motioned for her to exit.

“Where am I going?” she demanded. Her legs were stiff and her head throbbed from lack of sleep, but she ignored the pain.

“To collect your belongings.” He swung the door shut. “And after that, I don’t much care.”

She studied his florid face and bushy sideburns. “I’m getting back my things?”

“You’re being released, citizen. Charges have been dropped.”

“What?”

“I’d quit asking questions if I were you.”

She was being released? Elspeth could hardly believe her luck. Suspicious, she followed the warden to a small chamber where a woman pushed a wire basket toward her. There she found her watch, her tablet, and her mother’s ring. She shoved them back to their rightful places, worried all the while that someone would shout out that there had been a mistake, and that she should be returned to her cell.

Luckily, no such call was made. Minutes later, she burst out of the detention compound and into the bleak morning light. Cold air hit her like a wall. With the cold front had come a strange clarity in the atmosphere. She could see details three blocks ahead of her. And was that the moon in the distance? For a moment, Elspeth paused to gawk at the muddy-looking orb hanging over the rooftops. She had never seen the moon.

But Elspeth couldn’t waste any time staring at the scenery. She hugged her arms and hurried toward her aunt’s house, hoping she could get there before she froze to death. The WeatherWizards had predicted snow by the end of the week. But it hadn’t snowed for over a hundred years, so she suspected the promised miracle would not occur this week either.

She prayed the weather would return to its normal foggy blandness. Cold like this would complicate the life of someone who might have to sleep on the streets for a few nights. And that would be her. She planned to say good-bye to her aunt, pack a bag, and leave Londo City before the police showed up again, as she knew they would.

A block from Aunt Fi’s, she noticed a Flying Horse turn a corner and head her way, its vapor cloud billowing around it in the frigid air. Fearful of who might be in the vehicle, Elspeth increased her pace to just under a run.

The vehicle whisked up beside her. She kept walking and looked straight ahead, even though she had never seen a Flying Horse up close. She could see it was designed to look like a horse from a carousel, fashioned of polished black wood and chrome. She would love to study it more thoroughly—especially the motor, but getting home and away was her priority. One block more, and she would be back at Aunt Fi’s.

The driver must have read her thoughts, for the vehicle swerved abruptly to hover over the walkway and block her path. She dashed to the left. The vehicle countered the movement, turning with ease on its cushion of air. She cursed at the new technology that allowed such agility. No doubt the agents of the Overseers would be driving such vehicles soon, and there would be no chance of escape for people like her—on land or in the air.

A window opened. “Shutterhouse!” a voice called. “Get in.”

Get in?
The driver must think she was an idiot. She dashed around the floating car.

“I got you out of jail,” the deep voice boomed. “Spare me a moment.”

Elspeth recognized that voice. She skidded to a halt and glared over her shoulder. Captain Mark Ramsay had climbed out of his vehicle and was peering through the vapor cloud at her, his blue eyes and black hair unmistakable even in the fog.

“Get in!” he ordered. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Not on your life, Ramsay!”

“I can have you re-arrested.”

She shuddered.

“I know about the ruby,” he added. “I had you followed.”

“So you
were
the one who turned me in. I knew it!”

“No, I was the one who got you out. Some loyal citizen turned you in.”

She frowned. It didn’t matter who had turned her in to the authorities. It only mattered that she had failed. The risk she had taken to disable the Marriage Machine had all been for nothing. No doubt Ramsay
could
have her arrested for the crime. Unlike the rest of the citizens in Londo City, the Ramsays could go where they liked and do what they wished, a privilege they enjoyed for having saved civilization from extinction hundreds of years ago. She was forced to hear Mark Ramsay out or face the consequences.

He raised a black eyebrow and opened the passenger door.

Chin in the air, Elspeth slipped onto the seat of the Flying Horse while Ramsay gently closed the door beside her. She put her elbow on the tufted armrest and tried not to gape at the knobs and gauges that surrounded the steering arc of the Flying Horse. Ramsay settled into the driver’s seat and glanced down at her.

“Your jaw has dropped,” he commented with a droll smile.

Elspeth snapped shut her mouth and flushed.

“So you like my new toy?” he queried.