The Gravity Engine, Page 4

  Rhonda and Clarissa took one of Michael’s arms each and led him into the mansion. It was constructed of glass and silver, the same as the rest of the city. The doors opened into a hall that swept two storeys up to the clear glass roof that showed the darkening sky above them. The walls on either side were decorated with huge portraits of noble-looking men and women in embroidered robes similar to what Rhonda and Clarissa were wearing; rulers of the past. Stairs in front of them led to a landing that sat around three sides of the hall.

  ‘It’s a shame that the European Shen aren’t here any more,’ Clarissa said. ‘They look kind.’

  ‘How long have you two been here?’ Michael said.

  ‘We’ll tell you over dinner,’ Rhonda said, dragging him to a set of double doors. The doors led through to a long dining hall with a large rectangular table set Western-style with silver candelabras and fine china along its length. ‘The demons have been looking after us, but we’ve still been prisoners. I hope you can sort something out with the Demon King to take us home.’

  He followed them to the end of the table, still dazed and delighted to be back with them. He knew damn well they weren’t real, but they were there and that was enough for him. They sat on either side at the end of the table and gestured for him to take a seat between them. It was like one of the dreams he’d had for many years, where all the horrible things hadn’t really happened and he was back with them; but this was reality. They were warm and real – and demon copies. The pain in his chest was like a knife through his heart and he needed to run and hide and weep for hours.

  Instead he took a sip of the water from the crystal goblet in front of him, his hand shaking. The glass shimmered in the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows and he studied it, trying to pull himself together. Pine sprigs and pine cones were etched into its surface in such meticulous detail that it was a work of art. Every item on the table was intricately adorned, from the pine motif on the porcelain to the silver pine needles and pine cones decorating the candelabras. The candle-holders had no candles in them; instead long, six-sided natural crystals provided a warm and welcoming glow, enough light for everything to be clearly visible. More crystals sat in stands on the sides of the room.

  He raised his hands, one to each woman. ‘Take my hands.’

  They took his hands. He lowered his head and concentrated.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘Did you just try to teleport us out?’ Clarissa said.

  Michael released their hands and nodded.

  ‘It was worth a try, Mikey,’ Rhonda said with compassion. ‘Can you go by yourself?’

  ‘I won’t leave you,’ he said.

  Demon servants came out from a side door and placed plates in front of them. They held traditional Western-style appetisers: smoked fish with a white sauce he didn’t recognise. He stuck his fork into it and held it in front of his eyes, suspicious.

  Rhonda and Clarissa weren’t as hesitant; they cut into the fish and tasted it with obvious enjoyment. He took a small bite from his fork and nearly choked on the smoky, intense flavour. It was excellent. He had a couple more bites then turned to Rhonda and studied her. She appeared about five years older, which matched the time since she’d agreed to be the guest of the King; the Demon King’s other copies hadn’t aged, so there was a slight, maddening, chance that she was real. Clarissa seemed the same as she always had. The two women he loved most in the world, alive and real and sitting beside him. Rhonda’s fair complexion and blonde hair contrasted against Clarissa’s Chinese black hair and perfect skin, and seeing the two of them together was more joy than his heart could hold.

  If the Demon King’s task wasn’t too difficult, he could complete it, take them home, and sort it all out later. Back in the Asian Heavens, he could find out for sure whether they were copies or not. He just needed to try not to get too attached to them in the meantime. Clarissa smiled and his heart ached with love for her.

  ‘So tell me how you came to be here, and how long you’ve been here,’ he said, trying to push the feeling aside.

  They opened their mouths together, then both smiled and shared a look. Clarissa gestured towards Rhonda, and Rhonda nodded and spoke.

  ‘The Demon King was a perfect gentleman for the week I stayed with him. He never did more than try to talk me out of remarrying your father. The days seemed to blur past, and I wasn’t really aware of time, but I was sure the week had finished and he kept saying the last day would be “tomorrow”. I gave him two days and then demanded to be taken home, and that’s when he moved me from the guest house to another villa that was effectively a prison. He hasn’t hurt me – in fact he’s treated me well, and promised, over and over for years now, that one day you would come to take me home.’ She reached out to squeeze his hand. ‘And here you are, finally.’ She brushed tears out of her eyes. ‘It’s been breaking my heart to think about leaving you all alone.’

  ‘Yes, have you been all right?’ Clarissa said, her voice soft with sympathy. ‘Both of us left you.’ She smiled. ‘But we’re back together now and after you do this little job for the King we can go home.’

  Michael opened his mouth to tell them that they were probably demon copies – and couldn’t do it. ‘Well, I was really angry when you turned up alive after the Dark Lord told me you were dead,’ he said to Clarissa. ‘I left the job in his household and took the position as my father’s Number One Son.’

  ‘You’re the Tiger’s Number One now?’ Rhonda said sharply.

  Michael nodded.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘About time you two finally sorted out your differences. I’ll have a proper family to return to, a husband and a son.’

  ‘With more than a hundred other wives as competition,’ Michael said.

  Rhonda waved it away. ‘Nobody will question my fitness to hold the position of Empress of the West, and there are a few things around the Western Palace that could do with a definite update. I cannot wait to go home and start working with you and the Tiger to bring the entire complex into the twenty-first century. You can help if you like, Clarissa, after you’ve married Michael.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Clarissa said. ‘I’m sure the finances could do with a serious overhaul.’

  ‘You have no idea,’ Michael said.

  ‘There’s a wedding we need to plan as well,’ Rhonda said, bright with pleasure. ‘And this time nothing will go wrong.’

  ‘We still have to get home first,’ Michael said. He turned to Clarissa. ‘What happened to you? What’s the last thing you remember?’

  The demons cleared their plates and brought the main course. It appeared to be roast beef with a side of traditional Western vegetables – potatoes and carrots.

  ‘Oh, not the beef again,’ Clarissa said with dismay.

  ‘Apologies, ma’am,’ the demon said. ‘It’s all we have in stock at the moment. We are expecting a new delivery soon.’

  ‘The demons are angels looking after us,’ Rhonda said as the servants left. ‘But apparently their resources are very limited. There’s no electricity, no refrigeration, no modern conveniences. Everything has to be brought up from – what do you call it? – the Earthly Plane.’

  ‘It’s a pain,’ Clarissa said. ‘Even if the King let me have a laptop, I would have nothing to plug it into.’

  ‘So what is the last thing you remember?’ Michael said.

  ‘Laptop!’ Clarissa said. ‘I need to contact my parents. Do you have your phone?’

  ‘No,’ Michael said. ‘They took it all away from me before they brought me up here.’

  ‘Well damn,’ she said with the amused exasperation he had always found particularly charming.

  ‘Tell me about the last thing you remember,’ he said again, beginning to wonder if she was deliberately avoiding the question.

  ‘Oh, of course,’ she said. ‘We were shopping in Horizon Plaza on Ap Lei Chau, we were looking at gorgeous coffee tables made out of longhouse doors, and I went to the ladies’, and they grab
bed me then.’

  ‘I remember that,’ Michael said, nodding confirmation. It matched what the sentient stone in her engagement ring had said. ‘They replaced you with a copy and I never knew.’

  She fingered her cutlery, her expression stricken. ‘That’s awful. I thought you’d come and find me, I didn’t know they’d replaced me. I was mad at you for a long time.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. I was deceived; first I thought the copy was you, then I thought you were dead. I was misled by people I trusted.’

  ‘What gave the copy away?’

  ‘Some of the copies are programmed to explode.’

  ‘Good god, that’s awful,’ Rhonda said. She lowered her voice. ‘Michael, Clarissa and I …’ Her voice petered out. ‘I mean, it’s obvious that the Demon King is using us as a tool to make you do what he wants. Are you sure we’re the real us?’

  Michael hesitated. The Dark Lord had said that the broken and miserable Clarissa in the wheelchair back home was the real one. His mother had died, been Judged in Hell, and reattached to the wheel of rebirth. These two women had to be copies.

  ‘But we’d know if we were copies. Surely we’d know?’ Clarissa said before he could reply.

  ‘Most of the copies were unaware,’ Michael said.

  ‘Is that why you’re …’ Clarissa gestured helplessly towards him. ‘Is that why …’

  He nodded silently.

  ‘Do we look like copies?’ Rhonda said.

  ‘No,’ Michael said, and she relaxed. ‘But I’ve been fooled by copies of Clarissa before.’

  Clarissa put her elbows on the table and her face in her hands. ‘What if I am? What if I explode?’ Her shoulders shook. ‘What … what —’

  ‘Clarissa.’ Michael rose and went to her and pulled her up out of her chair and into a hug, but she pushed him away. He stood next to her without touching her and spoke intensely to her. ‘It’s okay. Don’t worry about it for now; we’ll sort it out later. I’ll do this job for the King and we’ll take you home and even if you are a copy, you’re still my Clarissa and the Dark Lord will know what to do.’

  ‘And if he says we’re demons? And I’m a copy? And there’s a real Clarissa out there, who isn’t me?’

  ‘Nothing will happen. I promise.’

  ‘But if I’m not the real Clarissa then you’ll want to be with the real one! Where will that leave me? I could be a living bomb, programmed to explode the minute I’m back home!’

  ‘I love you.’

  She looked up into his eyes, desperate, and must have seen his uncertainty because she turned and ran out. Rhonda and Michael hurried to follow her. She scurried up the stairs and along the landing, threw herself through a door and slammed it shut.

  He rapped on the door. ‘Clarissa?’

  ‘Go away!’ she shouted from inside.

  ‘Michael.’ Rhonda gently pushed him aside and stood next to the door. ‘Clarissa? Let me in. We can talk.’

  There was no reply, and Michael had a horrible vision of Clarissa harming herself in her desperation and panic.

  ‘Clarissa, I’m in the same situation as you; I could be a copy as well. Let me in and we can talk.’

  Clarissa was silent for a long moment, then she said, full of tears, ‘Just you, Rhonda.’

  Rhonda nodded to Michael, who nodded back.

  ‘Go back down and finish your dinner,’ Rhonda said. ‘Just leave us and we’ll talk tomorrow when you’ve rested. Find an empty guest room, there are plenty.’ She opened the door gently, went inside, and closed it behind her.

  Michael stood, helpless, in front of the door and didn’t hear them talking. Eventually he wandered back downstairs to the dining room and sat in front of his cooling beef.

  When the demons came to clear the plates, he stopped one. ‘You. Wait and talk to me.’

  She stopped, hovering over the plates, then stood back from the table and wrung her hands. She was in the form of a teenaged half-European, half-Chinese girl; slim and childlike, with huge, terrified eyes.

  The other demons quickly took the untouched plates and returned to the kitchen, obviously pleased that they hadn’t been singled out.

  ‘What’s your number?’ he asked the female demon.

  ‘I don’t have one, sir,’ she said, studying her hands as she twisted them together. She realised what she was doing, put her hands behind her back, and continued to look at the floor in a show of humility.

  ‘No number? You have a name?’ Michael said, surprised.

  ‘I don’t have anything, my Lord. When the masters need me they shout at me. Except for the King, who makes me do things with his will alone.’

  ‘I understand. How long have you been here?’

  She shook her head, silent.

  ‘No idea?’

  She shook her head again.

  ‘Have you always been here?’

  ‘I have vague memories from before I came. Nothing much, sir.’

  ‘I won’t hurt you, you can relax. I just want some answers.’

  She stiffened and collapsed in on herself, bending her head even lower.

  ‘Are there any other humans here?’ he said.

  ‘Not in this building. This building is the only one I am permitted to be in.’

  ‘I see. Have you heard sounds that would suggest there are other people here?’

  ‘Never, my Lord.’

  He took a wild shot. ‘Has the King ever discussed his plans in here?’

  She went silent and dropped her head even more. She was so curled up with submission that her chin was resting on her chest.

  ‘Thank you. Dismissed.’

  Her head shot up and she gazed at him with wonder.

  He waved her away. ‘I mean it. Thank you, you’ve been very helpful. Return to your duties.’

  She lit up, then quickly shut down the smile. She nodded to him and raced back into the kitchen. A minute later she returned to the dining room and bowed deeply to him. ‘I thank you for your kindness, my Lord.’ She slipped back into the kitchen, still full of wonder.

  The demons returned with a dessert of plain sponge cake that was not only obviously pre-packed, it had seen better days – it was dry and crumbly. The serving demon – a different one – cringed away from him as she placed the plate in front of him.

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,’ he said to her, and she jumped. She didn’t reply, she just ran into the kitchen.

  He fiddled with the cake for a while then rose and left the dining room. He checked Clarissa’s door; no sound from behind it. He rapped on it and was ignored. He sent his senses inside; both women were in there, asleep. Rhonda had obviously nodded off sitting on the bed with Clarissa’s head in her lap. He smiled slightly at the fond relationship they had developed, and wished for a moment that this was real and they could come home with him and be a loving family. He shook his head; that was for later. Right now he had a job to do.

  He went down the stairs to the entry hall and tried the front door but it was securely locked even though there was no locking mechanism he could see. He could use his metal abilities to dismantle it but it felt like vandalism to destroy something so beautiful. He wandered through the ground floor until he found the kitchen; the work surfaces were stainless steel but the stove was a huge wood-fired one and there was no refrigerator. The demons were busy washing the plates and all stopped when he entered.

  ‘Where are the deliveries brought in?’ he asked them.

  One of the quivering demons pointed at the solid metal kitchen door. He tried it and it was locked in the same way as the front door.

  ‘Can anyone open it? I want to go for a walk and get some fresh air,’ he said.

  The demons all shook their heads. The same slim girl was pushed forward by her comrades to speak to him. ‘They open the door when there is a delivery, my Lord,’ she said.

  ‘I see. Thank you,’ he said.

  He put his hand on the door handle, gave it a good tug with his full strength, and
it didn’t open. He softened the metal slightly and felt it sag beneath his touch. He spun it back together, then went back out to the entry hall. He’d go out exploring later when the demons were shut down for the night.

  The other rooms on the ground floor were furnished with European-style pieces that were detailed with inlays of wood and semi-precious stones without being overly ornate. There was a large, comfortable living room with many cushions on the floor, still appearing as new, and a massive black glass fireplace that would be a feature of the room on a cold night. He looked up; the construction was silver amalgam and glass panels, and he wondered how the ceiling–floor interface worked.

  The next room was a library, holding old-fashioned leather-bound volumes. He took one down and opened it to find hand-written and brilliantly decorated text. The subject matter was obvious; detailed techniques for forging high-quality steel, complete with diagrams and instructions. He closed the book and looked around. The room was filled with these priceless manuscripts. One of these books may contain the secrets of creating the buildings and lowering the gravity. His memorisation skills were non-existent and he wouldn’t be able to carry the library away with him, so he would have to find a way to return and collect them after he’d left.

  He went up the stairs and along the balcony that circled the entry hall. Each door led into a guest room and they all appeared identical. The one next to Clarissa’s had obviously been lived in for a while; his mother’s room. He went into the room next to that and sat on the bed. Each room had a bath and washbasin in a corner but no separation from the sleeping and washing parts, except that the glass-tiled floor around the bed was covered in finely woven rugs depicting pine branches. A heavy wardrobe stood next to the wall and he opened it; it was full of the soft cotton unisex robes that Clarissa and Rhonda were wearing, all in pastel shades of blue and grey. A chest of drawers held female underwear and cotton breeches. Another guest room would probably hold clothing for a man and he went out to find one.