Free Shadow Conspiracy by Phyllis Irene and Laura Anne Gilman Radford

“I wish I did not have to do this.”
    “I know.” Mr. Babbage covered her hand with his. “But you must understand, Ada, the public likes to see you with the machines. Such a young woman handling the language that commands them...it makes it seem less threatening. You don’t look as if you could do anything harmful.”
    “So you’ve told me.” If only they knew what I have built in this house... “Fear not, Mr. Babbage. I will do my part.” She arranged her face into a sunny smile for him. “After all, the play’s the thing.”
    “To open the pockets of a king. Just so, my lady.”
    III
    “Really, Ada, you should have informed me Mr. Babbage had arrived. I thought it was only the family you kept waiting.”
    Lady Byron, widow of the infamous Lord Byron, waited in the grand foyer as Ada and Mr. Babbage descended the stairs followed by one of the workroom keymen. Lady Byron was still a handsome woman, despite the thick black crepe she donned whenever she went forth in public. As if she mourned the man she helped drive from the country.
    Around Lady Byron stood her three confidantes, also dressed in fashionable but soberly coloured costumes. Mrs. Carr was fussing with the flower arrangement on the central table. Little Miss Doyle stood at Mother’s side, dabbing at her thin mouth with a handkerchief, while with needle-sharp awareness, Miss Frend simpered up at Ada’s husband, William, Earl of Lovelace, who towered over them all, thin and pale in his neat blue suit.
    Whenever her mother could not hear, Ada called the women The Furies.
    “It is entirely my fault that we are late, Lady Byron.” Mr. Babbage made his bow and then stepped up to shake hands with William. “I insisted on viewing the codex for the New Britannia once more before we left.”
    “A wise decision,” said Lady Byron. Her cool eyes never left Ada’s face as the maid helped Ada on with her coat. “One cannot be too careful on such a day.”
    “Of course Mr. Babbage will see to it that everything goes smoothly,” purred the plump and diminutive Mrs. Carr, first among the Furies. “He always organises events so splendidly.”
    Babbage bowed, acknowledging the compliment.
    “Shall we go?” William smoothed his coat sleeves and held out his arm to Ada.
    “If we are all quite ready, that is?” added Lady Byron.
    “Quite ready, Ma’am,” Ada replied. She turned to the automaton holding the codex chest. “Bastion. Take the box to Carriage Number One and load it securely onto the rack, then take your station.”
    Lady Byron’s lips thinned with disapproval. “Really, Ada, I should think one of the footmen...”
    “Forgive me, Lady Byron,” interrupted Mr. Babbage. “But I thought it advisable that Countess Lovelace be seen more frequently with her own automata.” He smiled conspiratorially at William. “There are still those who think they are somehow vulgar.”
    Which costs us business and consequently money. Ada watched the calculation flicker behind her mother’s hard eyes, as Mr. Babbage had known it would.
    “An excellent thought, Mr. Babbage,” said Mother promptly.
    Ada mentally set aside the sting from her mother’s disdain as she took her husband’s arm to walk out to the carriage. Lady Byron was a spectator today, nothing more. This day would prove to the world that Ada Lovelace, who could make bronze men walk and fight and sing, could make the greatest of machines dance to her command.
    This is my day. Mine.
    By the time their party reached the London Docks, Ada almost believed it.
    IV
    The launch of the New Britannia was a grand celebration, and the whole of the city turned out for it. The great blue dirigibles, the Flying Bobbies, floated in neat formation overhead while the personal fliers darted between them, their wings flapping like great copper albatrosses, plumes of steam trailing behind them. A full half of the Metropolitan Police had been brought out to attempt to hold back the crush of observers that