Late in the afternoon, the team walked out of Doctors’ Commons.

Allo seemed particularly disturbed by the army of enhanced robots in the steam vaults. Their destructive capacity appeared evident, based on the three that made it out. Rip recalled that line of conversation as they walked.

“We must come to grips with the fact that there are at least some elements within the Ethinium vault which mean us harm. We have seen smaller, more rural vaults turn upon the citizens above, usually with raids by elite sewer troopers or similar measures. But this marks something new and it disturbs greatly.”

Rip thought Allo must be concerned if he resorted to using the royal “we.”

Much discussion following that pronouncement led to weighing the readiness with which Darhaven could repair the many robots Venture Society members had left disabled down there.

“Vacuum tubes are not produced en masse,” Bixby said to the king. “Unless the Darhaven have a manufacturing facility we remain unaware of, there is only one factory that I know about in Umbria. I suggest we contact the manager and encourage him to let us know of any suspicious inquiries outside his normal sales channels.”

Allo agreed with this comment.

“We will send a representative from the Ministry of Trade to observe the factory in question.”

He motioned to Prescott, who nodded and jotted something down in a notepad.

They discussed the breadboards that were taken. Sharp assured the king that they had already turned the new boards over to Dr. Oggolopoli, who would compare them with the one he took out of Gretna Green. If there was anything to learn from these newer circuits, the boffins would find it.

“I hate to send you back in so soon,” Allo said. “This has been a costly venture even for those who did not go in.”

He glanced at Marissa when he said this.

“My students are ready should you need us, Cousin.”

“Yes, and they proved quite capable, despite your loss. However, I think we will consider another entry at some point in the near future with the same teams as before, to try and discern what the Darhaven are doing with all those disabled bots. Are they being prepared for another invasion? Are the parts being disassembled for use in something else?”

Rip, who had kept his enhanced wrench on his person since it was not really a weapon, touched it lightly at that statement. He wondered how hard it would be to disassemble a robot that big and reuse all its parts.

“Such questions will have to wait. We doubt they can do much today, or even the next few days. But we will ask the Bandits and the Swashbucklers to return to the vault at some point in the near future, for a report.”

And with that, the meeting ended.

Rip snapped back to the present when Chance asked the Verez sisters if they would accompany the others to the pub. Marissa Fisher had already left to return to her school.

“How ’bout it, ladies? We couldn’t have done it without you. Let me buy you both a pint. Or several pints.”

The looks on their faces were pained, Rip noted.

Hilda said, “I am sorry, Bobby. We will decline, but thank you so much for the invitation.”

“They never go out with us, Bobby,” Twig said, smiling.

“It’s because of the coins, isn’t it?” Rip said. “Too much silver changes hands in a pub. You can’t pay with copper, easily. A paper note results in change, which will be given in silver. So, it’s easier to just stay away.”

“Sir Ripley is correct,” Liza said, smiling. “We cannot tolerate silver. Even in coins, sad to say.”

Rip winced at the new title and gave her a sour look.

Liza smiled back, sweetly.

“Well, come along then,” Bobby said. “If that’s the problem, we’ll buy all your drinks. You won’t have to touch any coin tonight.”

After much hemming and hawing, the girls finally allowed themselves to be talked into accompanying the others to Tomfoolery’s.

From the private table in the back, they looked around in wide-eyed wonder at the patrons, the waitstaff and Tom the owner while he tended the bar.

“You’ve never really been into a pub before, have you?”

“Oh, I’m sure we have, Sir Ripley,” Liza said. “Just . . . not recently.”

“You can stop with the ‘Sir’ business.”

“Oh, no. We must let everyone know you are now a knight. That is what nobles do.”

“That is what parvenus do,” Hilda added.

Rip’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know what that word means, but I do not intend on announcing anything.”

He glanced up as a young woman in a smart business suit and a fedora entered the back of the pub. She scanned the room and locked on their table. She approached Sharp.

“Ah! Miss Fontaine, please join us.”

The men stood up and Sharp pulled out a chair for her. She smiled uncertainly at the others, lingering on Rip, before sitting down.

“Miss Fontaine works for the Standard Trumpet. She would like to do a story on us, and I invited her to our repast this afternoon.”

“Yes. And if I could especially speak with you, Sergeant Coulter, I think our readers would dearly love to get to know you more.”

Rip felt a sinking sensation as he imagined every person in Ethinium looking at him, if only through the lens of newsprint.

Blair, sitting next to him, saw the look in his eyes. She squeezed his hand under the table.

“They’re already talking about you in the press, you know. This might be a good opportunity to set the record straight.”

“That’s right, Sergeant,” Fontaine said. “The Standard Trumpet is one of the largest newspapers in all Umbria. Your words will be dutifully reported without a negative slant, I assure you.”

“I’ve read Miss Fontaine’s articles,” Chance said. “She generally gets things right.”

“That’s because she always praises you anytime she mentions you,” Twig said, smiling.

“Like I said . . .”

“I suppose I could do a little interview,” Rip said. “I’m just not one to focus on myself too much.”

Liza said, “That’s going to change, soon. King Allo just made him a knight!”