Edison stepped back to the workbench and folded his arms across his chest, glowering at nothing in particular.
Ada ignored him. Let him pout. Let him withdraw into the safety of anger and cynicism. Maybe if she showed him the way, he’d drop this absurd shell of indifference and enjoy the last few days they had together.
Maybe not.
Either way there wasn’t much she could do about his sour mood.
She pulled a wisp of dust from the top of the automaton’s cone-like head and opened the back hatch, studying the maze of wire. “Here. It looks like this connection came apart.”
She twisted the end of the wire back into its receptacle, closed the hatch, and rocked back on her heels. “There’s plenty of power left in the battery. Start it again.”
Edison grumbled, but he reached for the power switch and flicked it on.
This time, the mechanical shuddered straight to life. Ada caught the trace of a smile on Edison’s face as the brass wheels engaged and the figure jolted forward before making a sharp turn. The arms once again rose until they were perpendicular to the floor, but the added weight out away from the body accelerated the turn, making the poor thing spin about at an alarming speed.
Metal whined, as if the motor were fighting against some unseen force, then cut off. Bottom heavy as it was, the device ceased spinning in an instant. The brass arms slammed down to its sides. One sharp elbow punched a crease in the automaton’s side.
“This is never going to work.” Edison gestured toward the electrical lights overhead. “Might as well power up one of those damned electrical lightbulbs for your presentation. At least no one will laugh about that.”
He stalked out of the room.
Something in his childish behavior suggested he was referring to more than just his silly invention.
“It’s all right.” Ada reassured the silent machine.
Something about the forlorn little automaton touched her heart. She patted it firmly on the head.
The left arm dropped to the floor with a sharp, metallic clank.
Ada stared down at the metal digits, curled up like a sleeping child’s chubby fingers.
She could find a way to demonstrate her battery.
What she couldn’t do was make his automaton work seamlessly with her device. They weren’t built together, weren’t designed to fit together or manage each other’s unique requirements.
Much the way she and its creator were never meant to work together, sadly.
*
“I’ve never seen so many puffed up squirrels in one place.” The boy, Henry, shook his head as if his time around London’s finest minds had been like a trip to the lunatic asylum.
“They are an odd lot,” Meena added as she shook the rain from her umbrella and set it in the stand by the front door. She and Spencer and Henry had just returned from the chemical society’s offices where they’d gone to secure Ada a speaking slot.
Edison stared out at the rain slashing down outside the office windows. He didn’t disagree with the lad. Most of the so-called gentlemen scientists he’d met were more interested in talking about inventions than actually creating them.
Present company excluded.
He stole a glance at Ada. Face pale and drawn, she too stared out at the rain.
He curled his fingers into his palms, trying to quash the urge to soothe away the tension in her shoulders. After his performance this morning, he didn’t expect she’d have much further use for him.
Driving a wedge between them was the right thing to do. It would make their parting far easier, but damned if it didn’t leave him feeling empty as an old sock.
A gust of wind blew thick ropes of rain against the windows, filling the quiet room with an insistent, hammering sound. It had just gone noon, but the dark clouds blocked so much light it seemed more like dusk.
Meena unwound a thick scarf from around her neck. “Spencer did a masterful job convincing the president that it was their error in leaving Ada off of the speaker’s list.” She grinned at Ada. “As of this morning, you’re the featured speaker.”
Spencer dropped into the chair next to Nelly’s typing machine. “Speaking last’ll give us plenty of time to get into position and assess the crowd.”
Relief lit Ada’s brown eyes, but the effect didn’t last. That same shadow of sadness he’d so ruthlessly crafted closed back in far too quickly.
Edison drummed his fingers on the windowsill. He was a right bastard. Would be an even better one if he could teach himself not to care.
Briar came out from his workshop. “Looks like you’ve got enough smoke bombs and sleeping gas to storm Buckingham Palace.”
Edison folded his arms over his chest. “Can’t be too well prepared.”
Briar glanced at Ada, then rolled her eyes at him, as if he were unforgivably stupid. Which—when it came to Ada—he was.
He was just contemplating hiding in his workshop when Nelly’s telegraph machine beeped to life.
Henry’s eyes grew wide as Nelly hurried over to her machine. “You have your own telegraph?”
“O’course we do.” She snorted and waved a hand at him. “It’s a Phelps Electro-motor. Best in the business.”
The whole crew crowded around the machine, now spitting out its printed message, but Nelly remained in charge. Once the printing stopped, she pulled the message from the machine.
“It’s from the Hapgoods.” She frowned down at the type. Reading was one of her newer skills. “All are well. Mrs. Fogle fine. Has taken to our Mr. H.”
Behind him, Ada chuckled. “I can only imagine. Your Mr. Hapgood's a handsome fellow,” she explained in response to Meena’s questioning look.
Briar covered her mouth and laughed. “He’s handy with his fists, but he’s no match for your grandmother.”
Ada shook her head. “I only hope she leaves him in one piece.”
A strange feeling—an emotion, really—made Edison’s pulse skitter. He turned his back to the group. Ada’s smile, short-lived as it was, tugged at his heart.
The punch to the gut came next. He’d no longer be the one earning those enchanting grins.
“What do ya figure I can do at this lecture?” Nelly asked.
Edison exchanged a look with the other adults. The girl was as quick-witted and loyal as any of them, but she was a tiny thing, and she’d only just begun working with Master Tadeoka.
He wasn’t convinced her fighting skills would up to the task, should things take an ugly turn.
“We need you to watch over Mrs. Templeton,” Meena said. “If our planning fails, you follow after her. No matter what.”
Nelly’s chin tilted up, and she gave Meena a serious look. “No matter what,” she repeated.
“I’m a good shot,” Henry interjected. “If I had a pistol, I could—”
“You ain’t gettin’ a gun,” Nelly said.
The boy glared at her. “Says you.”
“Says me, actually.” Spencer stepped in. “If you’re willing to follow directions to the letter, we’ll set your up with a couple smoke bombs.” He pinned Henry with a level gaze. “Disobey the slightest command and I’ll have your head.”
“Not before I get hold of it,” Edison chimed in.