At such close range, it became clear rather quickly that there was no way it had been, or ever would be, alive. It was a construct of some kind, its inner workings covered over in skin, fur, and spines that made it look like a porcupine.

“I thought mechanimals were outlawed.”

“This is not a mechanimal.”

“It has been made without any ferric parts? Inspired, indeed.” Lady Maccon was duly impressed. She was no Madame Lefoux, to be able to understand the construct’s makeup fully in the space of only a few minutes’ examination, but she was well enough versed in scientific literature to know she held some very advanced technology in her grasp.

“But why use such skill merely to create a pet?”

Mabel Dair shrugged, an elegant little movement, refined so as not to disturb the fall of her gown. “The extermination mandate has been retracted. Your relocation and adoption agreement was quite a masterly maneuver in the great game. My mistress was impressed. Not that I am admitting to anything, of course, but those first porcupines were highly experimental. They were not as effective as we had hoped, so she has let me make a pet of one of the few we have left.”

“Ingenious technology.” Lady Maccon continued her examination of the little creature. There were small clips behind each of its ears that, when pressed, popped open to reveal some of the inner workings in the brain area.

“I supposed it would have been far more dangerous had it been a real African zombie.” She tapped at one of the faux bones. “Remarkable. I take it the hive has filed all the appropriate licensing with the patent office? Must be one of the countess’s pet scientists, since I haven’t read anything from the Royal Society on the subject. Is it designed specifically to withstand a magnetic disruption?” Then she noticed that the porcupine had ceramic and wooden moving parts held together with string and sinew, greased with some kind of dark waxy liquid. Alexia had misinterpreted this as blood, but closer inspection revealed it to be of exactly the same type as that found in the Hypocras Club’s automaton. “Oh, dear. Did you get hold of some of the Hypocras Club’s reports? I thought BUR put a lockdown on those.”

“Only you, Lady Maccon, would draw such a connection.” Miss Dair was beginning to look a little nervous.

At that juncture, it occurred to Lady Maccon to ask, “Why are you in my carriage, Miss Dair?”

The actress recovered her poise. “Ah, yes, well, Lady Maccon, there has been a breach in social etiquette, and it was only when you accosted me in the street that I realized it. I know the countess would want me to rectify the situation. You must believe, we understood that on full-moon nights you were otherwise occupied or we should never have neglected you.”

“What are you on about?”

“This.” Miss Dair handed Alexia an embossed invitation to a full-moon party taking place later that night.