Chapter Seven

Victoria felt like singing but didn't wish to alarm the servants. As a child, when she'd proudly trumpeted a tuneless hymn at church, her mother had politely suggested perhaps she should worship God more quietly. Her father had told her to sing al she wanted to even if it did drive the dog to cower under one of the beds. So she didn't sing now, but music swel ed inside her.

How sil y and strange. She'd read about the effects of sexual attraction on the mind and body but had never experienced them until now. As a scientist, she couldn't help but find her reaction to Dash's kisses and embraces very interesting. As a woman, she couldn't stop reliving each touch or glance they'd exchanged. It was troubling to feel so outside of her normal self, but also extremely exciting.

"Wil you be home in time for lunch, miss?" Patterson asked as he held her coat for her to slip her arms into.

"I don't believe so," she replied pleasantly. "I wil be at the lab working with Professor Samuels this morning and shal stop somewhere for lunch before taking a walk in the park later this afternoon."

"A walk in the park" code for "meeting her lover." Good gracious, was Dash her lover? She'd never expected to have one, especial y after her rejection by Harvey Samuels. Men of her class found her too strange, and even the considerable income from her father's estate wasn't enough to entice them to woo her.

As for her fel ow scientists, although they might admire her mind, none of them saw her as a potential romantic partner. She'd accepted the fact she'd not marry or bear children, let alone know the pleasures of the flesh--whatever those might be.

Evidently it had taken fate--a kidnapping and a man so far outside her social set he might as wel be a different species--to final y bring her the passionate connection she'd secretly longed for.

Could she and Dash possibly sustain any kind of relationship?

She had no idea, and right now she couldn't care in the least as she hummed under her breath and walked the five blocks to the laboratory she shared with Samuels. He was already there, wearing his lab coat and sitting at one of the tables, poring over some data on their recent experiments. The gaslight shone on his bald head and glinted off his spectacles when he looked up at her.

"Victoria." Harvey greeted her with a frown. "We need to talk."

No good conversation usual y fol owed such an opening, but even her partner's anxious tone could hardly dim Victoria's bright mood. "What is it, Harvey?"

He glanced around the room, although they were completely alone, and muttered, "Come into my office."

Victoria was getting a bit worried now. Dramatics were not in his nature. If he said he had something serious to tel her, then no doubt it was dire. She pushed aside her joyous mood and sensual memories and fol owed him into the smal office, where she sat in the chair by his desk.

He closed the door behind them, took his seat and leaned across his desk to whisper. "I think I'm being observed."

"Pardon me?"

"Fol owed, watched, listened to. My files and possessions gone through, my conversations overheard." His frown deepened. "No, Victoria, don't think I've become mental y unbalanced. This is not paranoia."

"Wel --" she was at a loss for what to say, "--who do you believe is doing this?"

"The Commission for Animatronic Affairs," he answered promptly. "I believe they're observing al of us, we five who worked on the project."

"Why?" She didn't doubt him. Harvey Samuels was not prone to flights of fancy.

"There are larger plans for the automatons than we ever imagined. The government plans to program them as a fighting force. Already automatons have al but replaced menial laborers and the poor have been eliminated in droves--exiled or hung for petty crimes or trumped-up charges. The Commission grows more powerful with every move they make. I believe their ultimate plan is to create a utopia based on their own agenda."

So the Brotherhood's conspiracy theory was not as outlandish as Victoria might've thought only a few days before. If she brought the leadership of the Brotherhood straight to the Commission, would they arrest them al and take them away, never to be heard from again?

"How did you find out al this?"

Harvey shrugged his stooped shoulders. "Things I've overheard.

Things I've surmised. And--" he tapped long, nervous fingers on the desktop, "--I have a spy on the Commission staff, a secretary who's privy to their affairs. He was the one who told me to watch everything I said, who I spoke to, what I wrote or researched, and what projects I work on. They won't hesitate to take whatever we do and use it in their own way."

"But who, specifical y, would be watching us?"

"The domestic workers they presented to us as a token of our service. As part of our households, they're the eyes, ears and hands of the Commission."

"Patterson?" She couldn't have been more shocked if he'd suggested her own grandmother was a spy. "But he's so... He always fol ows protocol to the letter."

"Ah yes, but whose protocol? That is the question." Harvey fixed her with his highly magnified gaze.

Suddenly she realized that Patterson fit the profile of a spy perfectly. He was witness to nearly every move she made. He knew her daily agenda and had access to her office.

"The file! The other day before my meeting with the Commission, I couldn't find some papers containing cases to support my proposal."

"How did your meeting go, by the way?"

"I became il and missed it but have rescheduled for Tuesday."

"There's your chance." Harvey brought his fist down on the desk with a thump that made her start. Such emphatic behavior was not his style. "You must bring a newspaperman with you and ask questions that wil expose the Commission's duplicity. It is the only way to bring them to justice."

"Harvey, I hardly know how I'm to accomplish that. We must have more to back up these claims. Ian Hatchett. The automatons are his design. He's continued working on the changes to adapt them to different kinds of work, which would include military models.

The Commission would rely on him to program them, so he must know something about it."

"Hatchett," Samuels agreed. "I never liked that chap. He always thought his work was the most important part of the project."

Which it had been. The automatons couldn't exist without a central system to act as a brain. "At any rate, at least we're aware now. We'l gather information, keep it wel hidden, and I wil ask questions at my meeting with the Commission. Beyond that, we can't make a move yet."

Harvey nodded and reached out to pat her hand. "Circumspect observation is the key. Very level-headed of you, Victoria. You're curbing that impulsive nature."

If he only knew. "For now we must just go about our business and not let these machines know they're being watched."

But once a person knew something, it was hard to remain calm and dispassionate. Victoria wanted to pul Patterson's switch and throw him in the rubbish bin. She was glad not to return home at lunchtime. The prospect of meeting Dash in the park was much more pleasant than facing her spying butler. After she told Dash everything Harvey had discovered, perhaps they would wander over to that wil ow tree and take up where they'd left off yesterday.

Victoria walked around the fountain a half dozen times then circled the duck pond twice. Her mood shifted from excited anticipation to mild annoyance to sour disappointment. The sun was low on the horizon before she final y admitted Dash was not going to come.

She walked home with her eyes on the shadows and entered her house with a heavy heart to face the lies and treachery within.

***

Dash reached the park in time to watch Victoria leave it. He didn't run after her or try to speak to her. He knew he was being fol owed, and the last thing he wanted was to bring his trouble to Victoria's doorstep. The detectives would remember the young woman who'd come asking al those questions and there was no explanation for her having a connection to someone like him.

After he watched her go, Dash walked to the underground and took the train back where he belonged. He saw the man fol owing him, who wasn't very circumspect in his watching. They'd let Dash go after a day of questioning and a night in jail because they had no reason to hold him. No proof of past crimes and no connection with the murder other than his having known the victim. If he was the kil er, did they think he'd merrily go about his business after this, right under their noses?

Having a tail also made it impossible for him to meet with the Brotherhood. When he saw Rat loitering around the Sheep's Head, he told the boy to let the committee know the beak was onto him and he had to steer clear just now.

Dash decided to go home and catch some sleep, but on the way he almost literal y ran into Jones coming out of a tobacconist's shop. "We can't talk long. I'm being fol owed. The police know about my friendship with Lizzie so apparently that makes me a suspect."

Jones's eyebrows rose. "I believe you've done many things in your life, perhaps even kil ed someone, but not a crime like this."

"Tel the others I spoke to Miss Waters yesterday. We have a meeting with the Commission next Tuesday. We should prepare what we're going to say, and Victoria thinks we should meet the night prior to review our presentation with her."

" Victoria thinks that? You're cal ing her by her Christian name now?" Jones studied him cool y. The peppery scent of tobacco emanating from his clothing made Dash need to sneeze.

Jones changed the subject. "I should tel you Robeson has fol owed his nickname and gone rogue. After you left the other day, he was angry he hadn't been invited to represent the Brotherhood to the Commission. Says he's had enough and is starting his own group to do things his way. You know what that means."

Dash nodded. Bombings. The news didn't surprise him. Rogue had been searching for a reason to splinter for some time. "I hope he doesn't give us a black eye before we have a chance to meet the Commission."

Jones shifted his parcel from one hand to the other. "I wouldn't be surprised if he struck soon. He's been chomping at the bit."

Dash glanced at his shadow. The undercover man was pretending to look at something in a confectioner's window. "I'd better go. I'l keep in touch."

Jones nodded, but before Dash walked away, he added, "Don't do anything that might ruin our chances."

"Such as?"

"A woman like Miss Waters is not for the likes of you. Keep your emotions in check, your mind on our goal, and your cock in your trousers. For God's sake, lad, remember your place. There's us and there's them, two different types, and you can never cross over as much as you might like to think you can."