The Chemickal Marriage

–’
    ‘If you cause harm to Miss Temple I’ll hack off your hands.’
    ‘Harm? Have I not shared their peril? Why would I have saved Svenson’s life –’
    ‘I have no idea. Didn’t he break your arm at the quarry?’ Chang clamped a hand around Phelps’s wrist. ‘You’ve taken off the plaster, but no doubt the bones remain fragile …’
    Was it the insistence on sparing Foison that had fired Chang’s suspicion? Foison’s knife had only pinned Phelps to the wall – on purpose? Had Phelps not delayed them with his snivels and sneezes, perhaps enough to allow recapture? He squeezed. Phelps gasped and tried to pull his arm away.
    ‘Doctor Svenson is a man of principle! In killing Tackham he saved my life as well!’
    ‘Where is the Contessa?’
    ‘If I knew that, I would not be in a stinking tunnel with a madman! I have thrown over my entire life –’
    ‘Why should I trust a man who’s done his best to kill me?’
    ‘Because everything has changed!’ Phelps hissed. ‘The city is in chaos!’
    Chang seized the man’s damp cravat and twisted the knot against his throat. ‘All part of your mistress’s plan, I think.’
    ‘Listen to me,’ Phelps wheezed, ‘I think you
are
a criminal – and that your kind deserves death – but you hardly threaten the
state
. We need you now – as you need me!’ Phelps jerked his chin towards Svenson and Miss Temple. ‘Do you think
they
know the codes to summon the militia, or can counterfeit diplomatic ciphers? When it comes to the final battle –’
    ‘I will be watching your
every
move.’ Chang released his grip and turned after the others … half expecting a bullet in his back.
    If Chang’s bluntness accomplished nothing else, it would make Mr Phelps keen to prove his value, if he was honest – and, if dishonest, that much more likely to misstep, from fear. That he would also hate Chang with a burning fire was neither here nor there.
    Miss Temple crouched with Svenson beneath another metal hatchway, waiting for Chang and Phelps to catch up. The Doctor studied Chang’s blank expression but said nothing. Phelps only cleared his throat and apologized for keeping them.
    ‘But you’ve found another room, it seems,’ he said. ‘How cunning.’
    ‘It is not a room,’ whispered Miss Temple, ‘but our exit.’
    Chang lifted one foot, for the ground was damp. ‘You’ve brought us to a sewer.’
    ‘Try your luck with Mr Foison,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure he’s forgiven everything.’
    This time Svenson shifted the metal hatch cover, then pulled himself from sight. A hand came down and Miss Temple went next, then Chang. He emerged into another cement chamber, but one lined with massive cisterns, each with a spigot the width of a 12-pound cannon at its base. He did not bother to assist Phelps.
    ‘They contain different solutions,’ Miss Temple explained, her voicethick, ‘released into the tunnels to stifle various kinds of explosive residue. The Comte was taken with the … engineering.’
    ‘How will that get us out?’ asked Phelps, rising stiffly. Miss Temple pointed to the largest cistern of all, filling one corner of the room and reaching near the roof beams.
    ‘Because
that
is full of water – to flush away the other chemicals – and the pipes that feed it run to the canal.’
    ‘I am just beginning to
dry
!’ moaned Phelps.
    ‘But Celeste,’ said Svenson, ‘we have tried the canal – the defences are too strong.’
    Miss Temple shook her head impatiently. ‘Not the canal gate at the
river
. We have walked entirely beneath the works,
away
from the river and near a spur of the Orange Canal itself, used to ferry goods in the opposite direction, to the Raaxfall railway head. These pipes pass under the border fences to reach the water.’
    ‘You want us to swim through the pipes?’ squawked Phelps. ‘The plan is blind idiocy!’
    Miss Temple was stricken by another fit of choking. It did not stop, and she bent over as if she might be sick. Svenson glared at Phelps, who shrugged and fished out a damp handkerchief to blow his nose. Miss Temple straightened. Her eyes were red and moist.
    ‘There are
valves
,’ she rasped. ‘The water can be turned off or reversed – they also use the pipes for drainage. It will be noissome, but the distance is not far, and we may pass through.’
    ‘How do we enter?’ asked Svenson.
    Miss Temple looked to the top of the cistern, high above. ‘There is a ladder – it may require a bit