“After Monique bungled the prototype retrieval? I doubt it,” muttered Vieve. “Things haven’t been roses between the schools since. Bunson’s won’t forgive Geraldine’s for nearly losing the only working device.”
Sophronia’s instincts took over. “How do you know that?”
“My aunt used to communicate regularly with a professor there.”
“Algonquin Shrimpdittle?”
“Yes, how…?”
“When we infiltrated Bunson’s last year, you used his name to get us past the porter.”
“You remember?” Vieve was impressed.
“It’s what I do.”
“Highest marks ever, right.” Vieve gave Sophronia a suspicious look. “Did you hold back during that test?”
Sophronia avoided her question by asking one in reply. “Did you know about the oddgob?”
Vieve nodded.
“Oh.” Sophronia was disappointed. “And I took such careful mental notes for you. Did you know it had a component part that looked a great deal like the prototype?”
Vieve frowned. “Not possible. Why would the oddgob need a crystalline valve frequensor? That valve is for wireless communication, nothing to do with oddgobbery.”
Sophronia shrugged and fished the item in question out of her reticule. She handed it to Vieve, experiencing some relief at no longer having it on her person. “Here, I stole it for you. Why don’t you tell me what it’s for.”
“Aw, Sophronia, how thoughtful. You brought me a present!” Vieve examined the mini-prototype for a moment. Soap and Sophronia watched her for signs of intrigue. “Amazing, they let it fall into your hands when they made such a fuss over it only last year.”
Sophronia nodded. “Unless it’s no longer a prototype and already in production and distribution. Technology does move awful fast these days.”
Vieve dimpled again. “I know, isn’t it grand?” She pocketed the valve, only then realizing Sophronia had neatly avoided her earlier question. “So, did you hold back during that test?”
“Maybe a little,” Sophronia admitted.
Soap grinned. “That’s my girl.”
Sophronia glared at him. He was getting familiar.
“You are, miss.” He continued to grin.
“I’m my own girl, thank you very much.”
“Sometimes. Sometimes you’re mine, or Miss Dimity’s, or even Vieve’s.”
Vieve was too young to follow this line of reasoning, but she was bound to agree with Soap if the conversation nettled Sophronia.
This one certainly did. In fact, Sophronia was finding it most flustering. She did not like being flustered, and she did not like that it was Soap doing the flustering. She wasn’t quite sure what this meant, so she resorted to orders. “Stop it, Soap.”
“For now, miss. You tell me when you want this conversation to continue.”
“Oh, really!”
But Soap, who certainly could be a gentleman when he tried, left the subject at that and moved the discussion delicately on to the latest boiler room excitement: the sooties had adopted a kitten.
Sophronia visited the boiler room regularly for the next few nights. Things remained uncomfortable in class and chambers. Dimity was barely passing polite, and the other girls ignored Sophronia.
Of course, Bumbersnoot tried his best, but a mechanimal hadn’t much conversation and wasn’t really interested in speculating as to what might be afloat. Sophronia refused to volunteer any information to the others. The possibility of a visit to Swiffle-on-Exe and Bunson’s—which meant young gentlemen—would have her compatriots in ecstasies of delighted anticipation. So Sophronia held on to the news out of spite. She didn’t try to warn Dimity that someone might be after her. Dimity would take it as a pathetic excuse for interference. Without knowing the motive behind that mystery attack, Sophronia had no way to make her case. She’d no idea how lonely such a life could be. So she escaped to see Soap, and occasionally Vieve, most evenings. It was a risk. She might get caught, but it was better than the pointed silences.