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"Unauthorized living key confirmed."
The automaton punched through the wall before Samuel could get Nora off the floor. White steel, blue lens, rubble spraying everywhere.
Nora wiped blood off her palm. "I'm so sick of hearing that."
The machine raised its arm.
Samuel fired first.
The shot cracked loud. The automaton's shoulder blew open, sparks everywhere, but it didn't drop. It stepped through the broken wall, one arm hanging loose, the other already swinging for Nora's chest.
Samuel grabbed her coat and yanked her back.
The blade missed by an inch. Went through the table behind her like wet paper.
"Run," he said.
"Where? The door's locked."
"Find me a better answer while moving."
He shoved her toward the far end of the chamber. The tall bronze doors shook. Something hit them from the other side. Then again.
The White Tower had sealed itself.
Samuel knew that sound. Every gate dropped. Every stairwell locked. The inspectorate's defense system had decided the people inside were the threat, and the machines outside were cleanup.
He'd seen it happen once.
Nobody walked out.
Nora stumbled. Her bleeding hand slapped the wall, left a bright smear across white stone. The mechanical heart inside the chamber answered with a deep, heavy pulse.
Boom.
Lights out.
Half a second of nothing but the machine's clicking joints and Nora's breath catching beside him.
Then every emergency lamp came on red.
The automaton turned toward her again.
"It's tracking the heart," Samuel said.
"You think?"
"Can you stop it?"
"I just fixed it. I don't have a second repair kit in my pocket."
"You fixed it with your thumb."
"Great. You noticed."
The automaton lunged.
Samuel stepped between them.
Its blade came down fast enough to split his skull. He caught the edge with his pistol, felt the weapon jerk out of his hand, drove his shoulder into the machine's chest. The impact sent him sliding.
The automaton barely moved.
Nora grabbed a broken copper pipe and swung at its knee. The pipe bent.
The machine looked down at her.
"Oh, come on," she snapped. "That usually works."
It raised its blade.
Samuel saw the strike before Nora did.
He got up and ran.
The blade cut through his coat, his shirt, the flesh beneath his ribs. Heat flashed across his side. His legs almost gave out, but he slammed into Nora and knocked her clear.
The blade buried itself in the floor where her head had been.
Samuel hit the ground on top of her.
For one ugly second, he couldn't breathe. Blood ran warm beneath his coat, soaked into Nora's sleeve.
She shoved at his chest. "Get off."
"You're welcome."
"You're bleeding."
"You noticed."
"You're an idiot."
"Also noticed."
The automaton wrenched its blade free.
Samuel rolled and came up on one knee. His side burned. His hand went to the inspectorate badge pinned beneath his coat. The metal disk was warm, humming with the tower's signal.
The machine's lens flashed.
A red line of light swept across his chest.
*Target designation updated. Inspector Samuel Grey. Authorized containment officer. Protect the living key. Return the living key to the core chamber.*
The words echoed through the walls.
Nora heard it too.
She looked at him. "Protect me?"
"Not the part I object to."
"You have orders to take me back."
"I had orders."
The automaton stepped closer.
The badge pulsed. A small green mark appeared in its center. The machine lowered its weapon.
Samuel stared at the badge.
Then he ripped it from his coat.
The chain snapped. He held the disk up as the machine paused, waiting.
"Inspector Grey," the tower said. "Present authorization."
Samuel looked at the badge. His name stamped across it. Underneath, the council seal gleaming through the blood on his thumb.
He thought of the recording.
A baby in a glass tank. Nora's tiny hand pressed against the inside. Evelyn Crowe standing beside her, young and calm, giving the order to erase the child's memories.
He thought of Nora fixing the heart, screaming through the pain.
He closed his fist.
The badge cracked.
Blue spark between his fingers. He squeezed harder. Metal dug into his palm. The disk split down the center with a sharp snap.
The red line on his chest vanished.
The automaton's head jerked.
"Authorization failure."
Samuel dropped the broken badge and crushed it under his boot.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm resigning."
The machine attacked.
Nora grabbed his arm. "That was your plan?"
"First part."
"You need a second part."
He pulled her toward the bronze doors. Still sealed, but a narrow service panel sat beneath the control plate. Samuel kicked it twice. The panel dented. He kicked again, and the lock burst open.
Wires inside like black roots.
Nora dropped beside him. "Move."
"You know which one to cut?"
"No."
"Good."
"But I know which one's lying."
She shoved her bloody hand into the panel.
The tower screamed.
Every lamp flashed white. The mechanical heart behind them gave another deep pulse, and the floor shifted. Somewhere below, gears the size of houses started turning.
Nora's eyes went wide. She was looking at something he couldn't see.
"Blue wire," she said. "No, wait. That's not a wire. That's a command line. It's telling the doors to stay shut."
"Can you open them?"
"Not from here."
"You said—"
"I said I know which one's lying. I didn't say the liar was gonna cooperate."
The automaton struck the door.
The bronze buckled inward.
Nora bent over the panel. Blood dripped from her palm onto the wires. Tiny gears inside spun faster.
"Come on," she muttered. "Come on, you stupid bastard."
The machine hit the door again.
A crack split the bronze from top to bottom.
Samuel picked up his pistol. Three rounds left. He fired into the automaton's damaged shoulder. First shot punched through. Second blew away a bundle of cables. Third did nothing but spark against its chest.
The automaton pushed through the broken door.
Samuel raised the pistol.
Nora caught his wrist. "Don't."
"It's about to kill us."
"It's not the important part."
Her fingers tightened. Her face had gone pale, but her eyes stayed fixed on the machine.
"It's connected to the tower," she said. "If I break the wrong thing, the whole system could lock down. Or explode. Or wake up something worse."
"You're making a strong case for shooting it."
"Give me ten seconds."
"You have three."
The automaton lifted its blade.
Samuel moved in front of Nora again.
No badge now. No authority. No backup. Just an empty pistol and a woman who'd been turned into a key before she could even speak.
The blade came down.
Samuel caught it with both hands.
The impact drove him to one knee. Steel screamed. The edge pressed into his palms. His shoulders shook as the automaton forced the weapon lower.
Nora kept one hand inside the panel.
"Nine," she said.
"You said three."
"I changed my estimate."
"Change it back."
The blade sank another inch. Blood ran between Samuel's fingers.
"Five."
"You're terrible at this."
"Four."
The machine's damaged shoulder snapped into place. Its strength doubled.
Samuel's knee hit the floor.
The blade reached his throat.
Nora looked over at him. Her face changed. Not fear.
Pure anger.
She pulled her hand out of the panel and slapped her blood across the machine's chest.
The automaton froze.
Its lens flickered blue.
Nora whispered, "Down."
The machine dropped to one knee.
Samuel shoved the blade away and rolled aside. Nora grabbed the back of his coat and dragged him through the service opening as the automaton crashed forward.
The bronze door slammed shut between them.
A heartbeat later, the machine hit it.
The impact shook dust from the ceiling.
Samuel lay on the other side, breathing hard. His side was wet. His hands were cut open. Nora crouched beside him, still holding the bloody edge of his coat.
"You took a blade for me," she said.
"It was aimed at your head."
"You could've moved."
"So could you."
"I was busy."
"You're always busy."
She stared at him for a beat too long. Then she looked away.
The passage behind the service panel was narrow and dark. Pipes crowded the ceiling. Hot water hissed somewhere below. The air smelled like rust, wet stone, old oil.
Above, the White Tower shook again.
The automaton was still trying to get through.
Nora pushed herself upright. "We need to go."
Samuel tried to stand. His side protested hard enough to blur his vision.
Nora caught his elbow. "Can you walk?"
"Can you stop asking questions you already know the answer to?"
"No."
"Then yes."
They moved deeper into the conduit.
The passage sloped down. Water ran over Samuel's boots. Behind them, metal tore through metal. The machine was opening the door.
Nora glanced back. "How long till it follows us?"
"Not long."
"And how long till your inspector friends show up?"
"Longer."
"Because you broke your badge?"
"Because they were never my friends."
She gave him a hard look. "You say that now."
"I said it before too."
"You arrested me."
"I didn't arrest you."
"You put a gun in my face."
"I asked you to come with me."
"You pointed a gun."
"It was a very clear request."
Despite everything, she laughed. Short, sharp sound that turned into a hiss as pain shot through her hand.
Samuel noticed the blood running down her wrist. "Let me see it."
"No."
"Nora."
"You already saw enough."
"Your hand's splitting open."
"It was splitting open before you got stabbed."
"You're welcome again."
She stopped walking.
The conduit shook. Dust dropped between them and the passage behind.
Nora faced him. "Why'd you do it?"
Samuel looked at the tear in his coat. Blood had soaked through his shirt, gathered at his belt.
"Because it was gonna kill you."
"You barely know me."
"I know enough."
"No, you don't. You know I strip machines for parts. You know I lie to inspectors. You know I fix things nobody else can fix."
"And I know the council made you."
Her mouth tightened.
"No," she said. "They didn't."
"I saw the recording."
"You saw a baby."
"Your baby."
"You don't know that."
"Nora."
"You don't know anything."
The words bounced down the tunnel. Her voice cracked on the last word, and Samuel saw her jaw clench against it.
He lowered his voice. "Then we find out."
The tunnel went quiet.
Not silent. The pipes still groaned. Water still ran under their boots. But the tower's alarms had faded.
Nora stared at his bloodied hands. He could guess what she was seeing. The badge splitting under his boot.
"You really destroyed it," she said.
"It was already useless."
"You were a senior inspector."
"Now I'm a guy with an empty gun and a hole in his side."
"That's not better."
"It's more honest."
A sound came from ahead.
Three soft knocks.
Nora froze.
Samuel pulled his pistol, though he knew the empty weight meant almost nothing. "Behind me."
"You need to stop doing that."
"Get behind me."
The darkness ahead moved.
A man stepped out from a side tunnel. Long gray coat patched with red thread. Round lenses covering his eyes despite the dark. Small brass keys hung from his belt. Not tools. Keys shaped like teeth, fingers, tiny human skulls.
He looked at Samuel's pistol first.
Then at Nora's hand.
Then at Nora's face.
His expression changed.
"Oh," he said softly. "You're awake.