Dorian turned the lever. The lift made a low grinding sound and dropped a bit lower. Hugo gasped and grabbed at Dorian’s arm.

  “It’s broken,” Hugo guessed. “Isn’t it?”

  Dorian shook his head but didn’t risk turning the lever again. “I’m not sure …” Dorian said. “Who knows how old this lift is. A hundred, a thousand years old? It’s hardly a surprise if it’s broken.”

  Hugo spent a few moments imagining what would happen if they couldn’t fix the lift. They’d be stuck in a supply shaft, deep underground, for the rest of eternity. Hugo’s cogs whirred as he fought against his panic.

  He had to calm down so he could think properly. The lift worked using clockwork – just like watches. If anyone could fix the machinery, it was Hugo.

  “Let me try,” Hugo said, and twisted his magnifying lens out of its socket. He nudged Dorian out of the way and saw there was a metal panel covering the clockwork of the lift’s mechanism. Hugo took his broken screwdriver out of his pocket – the one that had been damaged when he’d opened the manhole in the library.

  Hugo unscrewed the wall panel. There were several layers of cogs inside, with a rope wrapped around the narrow metal barrel. It must turn and wind up the rope, pulling the lift upwards.

  Hugo turned the winding stem of the barrel, checking that the cogs weren’t dragging against each other as they rolled. They were well oiled, and nothing seemed to be broken. The ratchet and pivot all moved when he tested them. What could be causing the problem?

  Hugo put pressure on the toothed gear, watching the cogs click into place on it, one after another. Ah. There it was – a tension in the rope that shouldn’t be there. The rope must be caught somewhere. Perhaps it was frayed and stuck between two wheels.

  He tugged at the rope. It didn’t seem to be completely broken. If he could find the problem in the rope, he’d be able to fix it.

  Hugo straightened up and turned to Dorian, who had been watching him work in silence.

  “All right,” Hugo said. “I have good and bad news. Firstly, it’s not broken. We’re not stuck here.”

  “Brilliant!” Dorian clapped Hugo on the back. “You’re wasted in that attic of yours. I should take you everywhere with me. I’d be hopeless at this. They’d find me in this lift in two weeks with nothing but a note scratched into the metal saying ‘Goodbye, fair world’.”

  “Well.” Hugo swallowed. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “So what’s the bad news?” Dorian asked.

  “Well … I’m going to have to climb out of the ceiling hatch to get it working again. Could you give me a lift up?”

  Dorian looked at the tiny door in the lift’s roof. “You’re going up there? Are you sure?”

  “It’s the only way I can get at the pulleys to clear the blockage,” Hugo said.

  “Do you …” Dorian began, looking unsure. “Do you want me to do it instead?”

  Part of Hugo really wanted to say yes. His gears were still grinding together with worry whenever he thought about the drop below them. It would be even worse when Hugo was perched on top of the lift itself. But Dorian wouldn’t know what to do up there.

  Hugo shook his head firmly. “No. I’ll do it.”

  He put his foot in Dorian’s cupped hands and climbed up to the hatch in the ceiling of the lift. He unscrewed the hatch and tugged himself out onto the top of the lift.

  “Good luck,” Dorian said, looking a bit sick.

  Hugo nodded down at him through the hatch, and then made himself stand upright. He tried to pretend he wasn’t standing on top of a small box balanced in mid‑air.

  Hugo grimaced as he held onto the rope holding the lift in place. A lowering mechanism was attached to it. Using his clockwork moths to see, Hugo ran his hands over the length of the rope, searching for any fraying sections that might have got stuck in the workings.

  There was a rough patch where the rope fed into the ratchet. A stray curl of rope had caught and twisted around it. Hugo used his scissor tool to carefully cut through the tangle. As soon as it was free, the rope started moving again. The lift dropped, faster than Hugo had been expecting.

  He stumbled, and his foot fell through the open hatch in the roof of the lift. He only just stopped himself from falling inside on top of Dorian.

  Hugo twisted up to reach the lever and pulled on the brakes. The rope stopped unreeling and the lift came to a stop again.

  “Are you all right?” Dorian called up. There was a high note of panic in Dorian’s voice as he stood on his toes trying to peer up at Hugo.

  Hugo waved his hand at Dorian. “It’s OK. I’ve fixed it,” he said, cogs fluttering wildly. “Nothing to worry about!”

  Dorian made a noise of disbelief. He fluttered his hands in the air, reaching up to pat at Hugo’s foot, which was still dangling through the lift hatch.

  “That should be fine now,” Hugo said, climbing back into the lift. Dorian helped him down.

  “That was intentional, right?” Dorian asked. “That bit where you nearly fell back through the hatch?”

  Hugo gulped and said, “Of course. It’s an important part of the lift‑maintenance service.”

  Dorian rolled his eyes. “This is not the time for jokes, Hugo,” he said, but he was grinning.

  Hugo hid a smile and turned the lever again, hoping the rope wouldn’t tangle in the cogs this time. The lift started to rise.

  Dorian and Hugo looked at each other, waiting for a jolt, but the lift moved smoothly. They made it to the top of the shaft. As soon as the doors opened, they both lunged out of the lift. Hugo pressed himself against the wall of the sewers, taking a moment to recover from the dizzy feeling of being trapped somewhere so small. The wall was sturdy against Hugo’s back, and after a few moments he felt he could move again.

  “Come on,” Dorian said, with a grim face. “I really, really need to be above ground right now.”

  CHAPTER 10

  They had been away for so long that Ada had fallen asleep on top of the manhole in the library. Hugo had to poke at Ada’s underside with one of his long attachments until she woke up and moved.

  “You’ll never believe what happened to us!” Dorian told Ada dramatically as Hugo clambered out of the hole. “We’ve had the most shocking adventure in a supply shaft! Hugo saved my life! We’d be as flat as pancakes if it wasn’t for him!”

  “What a hero,” Ada said dryly.

  “It was … I didn’t do anything!” Hugo spluttered, frowning at Dorian. He was posing with his chest puffed out, like he was an actor in one of the plays the students put on at the end of each term. Hugo had been to a few of them when the Earl had needed someone to reserve a seat for him in the front row.

  In those plays, the heroes were always brave and muscular characters. They would slay monstrous beasts from alien planets and then launch into long, dramatic monologues about it.

  Before Dorian could start making such a speech about their adventure in the lift, Hugo said, “Dorian, that can wait. We need to tell Ada about the androids!”

  Dorian’s puffed‑out chest deflated. He dropped his hand, which he’d been sweeping downwards to show Ada just how fast the lift had been falling.

  “Oh,” Dorian said. “Yes, I suppose we should.”

  The three of them walked to the staff building, with Dorian telling the story of their great adventure in the Under City. He added in a few details that Hugo definitely didn’t remember happening. The androids sounded three times as scary as they’d actually been, and apparently a falling piece of metal had nearly chopped off Hugo’s arm just at the moment he’d fixed the lift. It was only due to Dorian’s quick action that Hugo’s arm had been saved.

  “This Dorian fellow sounds quite the hero,” Hugo joked. “I’d love to meet him.”

  Dorian huffed and said, “I never should have encouraged you to make jokes, Hugo. I didn’t think you’d start making them about me.”

  Hugo smiled to himself.

  “So can I hire one of the android tutors?” Ada asked.

  “Absolutely! You’ll be our first customer,” Dorian said, delighted. “Mates’ rates, of course.”

  It took a few days for the academy to approve Dorian’s new business idea. The staff had laughed at him at first, convinced that it was all a joke. It was only when Hugo had demonstrated how many languages he could speak that the staff had stopped laughing and listened properly to Dorian’s proposal.

  Even then, the staff kept asking if Dorian was sure that he wanted to invest his money in something so risky. They seemed convinced that the older androids were slow, stupid and broken. It made Hugo realise how much the staff looked down on the androids who applied to be cleaners. No wonder the waiting list for jobs was so long. The staff at the academy hadn’t wanted to hire the older androids at all.

  Dorian insisted that he wanted to go ahead with the plan, and the academy finally agreed to give the androids ID cards to the campus. But they told Dorian he would have to pay the rent upfront for the whole of Hugo’s building for the next year, so the androids would have somewhere to live.

  Dorian secretly tried to pay for Hugo’s rent too, but Hugo noticed in time and managed to stop him. Hugo didn’t want Dorian to pay for anything for him. He made enough money from his watches. Hugo wanted to be Dorian’s friend, not his employee.

  While they were waiting for the androids’ ID cards, Hugo repaired Dorian’s and Ada’s watches for their time‑travel exam. Then he also built some lamps to take down to the Under City so the androids could recharge their batteries.

  A week after Dorian had got approval for the business, he was given the ID cards for the androids.

  Hugo and Dorian took the stack of fresh ID cards to the library and called the androids out of the sewers. They soon filled the narrow aisles of the library as Dorian handed out the IDs.

  Dorian led the group of androids outside, and Hugo noticed that every student stopped to stare at the dusty, rusted old androids walking past. Dorian just grinned at the students, raising one hand in a lazy salute.

  “I think you came just in time,” Alfred admitted to Dorian as all the androids followed Hugo to their new home in his building. “Even with the lamps that Hugo brought to us, we were close to shutting down.”

  The androids were walking with their faces tilted up towards the sky, absorbing as much starlight as possible.

  Hugo’s normally empty building was soon buzzing with life. The androids were suddenly more lively now that they were fully charged. Hugo didn’t think he’d ever feel lonely in his attic again.

  “Well,” Dorian said, looking around the rooms. “The androids all seem to be settling in well.”

  Ada was sitting outside with one of the androids, having her first tutoring session. From the attic, Hugo could hear her rumbling voice through three floors.

  “I suppose I’d better leave all of you to it,” Dorian said.

  “Right,” Hugo said, and he tried to hide how sad he was that his adventure with Dorian was over. It had been a lot of work, but he’d never felt so alive.

  “I’ve told everyone in my class about the new tutors,” Dorian said to Alfred, who had the room next to Hugo’s. “The language exams start next week. I bet they’ll all come running over here.”

  “Thank you so much for all your help,” Alfred said. “If this works, you’ll have changed our lives for ever.”

  Dorian nodded calmly, but his antennae were fluttering with emotion. “I promise I won’t abandon you,” Dorian said. “Once this business is up and running, you’ll be able to live here for the rest of your lives, if you want. I will find a way to hire every unemployed android on this planet.” Dorian’s eyes met Hugo’s. “I promise.”

  Then Dorian clapped his hands together and added, “I suppose I should go and study. I haven’t done much at all in the last week!”

  Hugo followed Dorian outside. “Good luck with the rest of your exams,” Hugo mumbled. There was so much he wanted to say to Dorian now that he was leaving. But none of the words could find their way out of Hugo’s throat. “I know you’ll be brilliant,” Hugo said.

  Dorian hesitated, then leaned in and hugged Hugo tightly. “You’re the one who’s brilliant. I didn’t expect any of this to happen when I first came to your attic. What a great end to the term! I’ll see you soon, OK?”

  With one last wave, Dorian turned and left, grinning like he was filled with excited energy and new ideas. Hugo stood on the doorstep and watched him go, trying not to feel like he’d been left behind.

  CHAPTER 11

  At first, it was a relief for Hugo to be back in his attic room. He could finally get back to tinkering with the broken watch he’d been fixing when Dorian had knocked angrily at his door.

  Hugo found it peaceful to just sit quietly at his desk after the mad rush of the last couple of weeks. He opened up the back of the watch as the fluttering wings of his glowing clockwork moths surrounded him.

  Hugo pulled his magnifying lens out of his eye. One of the delicate metal cogs inside the watch had a single curl of gold sticking up from its smooth edge. A small thing, but it must have caught in the workings as the cogs turned, twisting the whole thing out of shape. Hugo opened one of the drawers in his desk and chose a new golden cog from a velvet‑lined compartment.

  It was almost impossible for biological people to do the kind of work that Hugo did. The cogs were so tiny that even just the throb of blood pulsing through veins could push a watchmaker’s touch off‑course. There were biological watchmakers of course, but they had to train themselves to work in the spaces between their heartbeats.

  Hugo wondered if any of the androids would like to work for him, just as he’d offered, even though he wouldn’t be able to pay as much as the students could. Hugo had never considered taking on an apprentice before, but now his attic felt cold and empty and dark, especially when he could hear the cheerful laughter of everyone chatting and joking as they set up their new rooms.

  Hugo slid the new cog into place with a pair of tweezers, twisting the screw until it slipped into its socket with a tiny click. He turned the handle and the cogs moved smoothly again.

  He smiled. All fixed.

  Hugo would have to teach Dorian a bit of watchmaking when he came to visit. Dorian didn’t even understand the difference between springs and gears. He was the kind of person who found all new things interesting, so Hugo thought he’d probably love to learn about his work.

  Hugo wondered when Dorian would come and visit him. He’d probably be busy for a few days with the rest of his exams. Maybe after the exams were finished, Hugo could walk over to Dorian and Ada’s building and ask if they’d like to go for a walk around the academy’s lake.

  Hugo guessed that Dorian would go off‑planet for the holidays, but Dorian would have to come by the building before then to check on the androids. Hugo could invite him inside for a cup of tea. He couldn’t wait.

  Three days passed by, and Dorian still hadn’t come to visit Hugo. As time went on, Hugo started to wonder if he would ever stop by the little attic room again. Maybe Dorian didn’t need Hugo any more now he had a whole building of androids to talk to.

  On the fifth day without any news from Dorian, Hugo was utterly miserable. He couldn’t bring himself to repair any of the watches that had been dropped off in his room. Hugo just stared out of the window, pretending he wasn’t waiting for Dorian’s familiar figure to stride down the path.

  Hugo would have gone to visit Dorian himself, but as the days went by, he started to wonder if he’d imagined their friendship. What if Dorian was just being polite to Hugo? What if he hadn’t really liked Hugo at all? Maybe Hugo had been annoying. Maybe it had been a relief to Dorian to get rid of him.

  What if Hugo went to visit Dorian and he opened the door with a look of annoyance or, even worse, fake pleasure at the sight of him?

  Hugo could just imagine an awkward, polite afternoon tea with Dorian, where they sat in silence or perhaps discussed the weather. It would be horrific. Hugo didn’t want to think of it. It was much better not to visit at all than to suffer that.

  They’d had one fun, exciting adventure together. That was all. That should be enough, more than enough – it was more than Hugo had ever dreamed of. He should try to be glad that it had happened at all, rather than upsetting himself by greedily wishing it had turned into something more.

  Hugo looked around his tiny, worn attic. It was the same as it had always been, yet he felt too big to fit inside it any more. His time with Dorian had changed him, filling him up from the inside with something new and exciting. It felt impossible to return to his old quiet life now.

  Dorian had barged into Hugo’s life and changed everything. Then he’d left again like nothing had happened.

  Hugo sighed and stared down at the inside of a broken watch. He felt exhausted all of a sudden. He considered lying on his bed and letting his gears wind down for a few hours until he felt able to face the world again.

  But Hugo knew he should finish the watch first, before one of the tiny cogs rolled off the desk and was lost for ever. He was trying to summon up the energy to do it when there was a knock on his door. Hugo looked up, surprised.

  It was Dorian. He didn’t barge in angrily like the first time, demanding all of Hugo’s attention. Dorian just hovered in the entrance. He looked nervous.

  “Hello again,” Dorian said. “I was wondering …” He stopped talking and cleared his throat.

  Hugo stood up. He could hear his cogs whirring fast, but it felt like it was happening somewhere very far away.

  Hugo saw that Dorian was holding a small plant pot.

  Dorian seemed to notice it at the same time as Hugo, because he held out his hands and pushed the plant into Hugo’s chest.

  Hugo carefully touched one of the flowers. It felt as thin as paper and too delicate to touch. He’d never had a plant before.

  “It reminded me of your tattoos,” Dorian said shyly, reaching out to touch Hugo’s arm.

 

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