The Gadgeteer Box Set

by Gin Hollan

  As her great-godfather walked away, Arabeth breathed a sigh of relief. She really did have places to go. Smoothing her jacket, she turned to walk toward the photography studio.

  Hicks caught up to Arabeth, matching her stride.

  "I thought he'd never leave. Where are we off to?" he said. His hands were in his pockets and he seemed unusually casual.

  "Lily has something for me," Arabeth said.

  "Ah, Lily … wait, who is she?"

  "A photographer."

  She caught the sound of footsteps behind them and looked back. She couldn’t see anyone there, but caution was rarely the wrong choice. "Let’s take a less direct route. Follow me." One last glance revealed a tall, dark-haired man in what looked like a uniform watching them a little too closely.

  “Here,” she said. They ducked into a bakery, bought a bag of buns, and went out the back door. The bell over that door rang as they went out. Next she went into a creamery shop and got a small container of milk. Again they went out the back door, setting a bell ringing. The next shop was a meat shop. This time she dawdled, hoping to time things right. The man spotted her through the window and scowled before disappearing around the back. Laughing, Arabeth paid for two pounds of dried chicken and went out the front.

  "Ready?" She looked at Sam with a twinkle in her eye.

  He nodded and they hurried to the nearest alley. She led them to a narrow door behind a staircase and pushed it open. Standing, they waited to see if they were followed. Five minutes passed and there was no sign of the man who’d been following them. Smirking, she walked slowly in the dimly lit space until she saw a door outlined with light.

  Arabeth knocked three times quickly, then slow, then quick again. A lock slid on the other side and Lily peered through a small panel to see who knocked. A snap on the other side indicated a latch had been released. Arabeth pushed the door open, leading Hicks into the back of Lily's shop and put her purchases on a narrow counter in the dark end of the store.

  When Lily saw Sam, she scowled and hesitated.

  "He's with me, Lily. It's okay."

  "I'm not a police detective anymore," Sam said.

  Lily shrugged and went to pull a medium-size black envelope out of a narrow, black slot. Passing it to Arabeth, she looked over her shoulder, toward the curtain that acted as a door to the front counter of the photography studio.

  Arabeth opened the envelope and pulled two pictures out. The first showed an army of the automatons in a large open valley. These machines were different - wider, better balanced from top to bottom. The second picture was a group of men posing. Two wearing suits, the others in lab coats or overalls, each face expressing a form of victory or pride, except one man. He stood on the end and back a bit from the others. His posture implied "unnamed master," Arabeth thought. She recognized a couple of the overall-wearers as gadgeteers that had gone missing. Their specialties meant these automatons would not go down easy, like the first one had, and that they were a front-line machine.

  A bell over the front door rang.

  "Quick, out!" Lily whispered as she grabbed the edge of the door. "And hide those things. I don't favour dying today."

  If Arabeth's nerves hadn't already been on alert, that would have done it. Lily rarely overreacted.

  Arabeth grabbed Sam’s arm and dragged him back out as Lily quickly eased the door shut. Hurrying through the dark tunnel toward the only light source - the other door - Arabeth made two decisions. First, she would need a copy of these photos so she could put the originals in a safe place. Second, she was in over her head. She had to get these to her father immediately. The people meeting at his house may have dispersed to their various locations, but he'd know what to do with the information.

  She paused at the exit, hoping no one had seen them come in. Running around like this in broad daylight had that downside.

  What they needed was a disguise. The only thing she could do was take her jacket off and pray they passed a clothesline along the way. There was no real point, though. Marble would be all the tip any pursuers needed. Speed, then. They should get quickly into a carriage.

  "They're looking for me and if they see you alone, they may think I've given you the slip as well," Arabeth told Hicks.

  "You want me to get a carriage?" he asked.

  How did he do that? It was as though he read her mind. "Yes … my father may be able to identify some of these people."

  "Stay here until I come for you." He pushed out, closing the door quickly behind him.

  In the sudden silent dark, Arabeth wrapped her arms around her body. Hicks was back in less than five minutes, but the chill Arabeth felt stayed with her as she ran to the carriage. She squished herself into the darkest corner as Hicks took the opposite seat. They were at least a twenty-minute ride from their destination, so she pulled the pictures out again.

  The dim light inside the carriage wasn't much better than the back of the photography store. She looked from face to face, trying to memorize them as she went. There was one person in the photo she hadn't expected - they stood in the background, not in the main shot, but were somehow intentionally in frame. Maralise. Her sister.

  She turned the picture over, hoping for a note or name. There were no names, but someone had written an address.

  "Sam, look." She pointed at Maralise.

  He leaned forward, squinting. "Hmm, I think your father needs to see this."

  "Right." She'd forgotten his involvement already, or was mentally blocking it. Her father, the mastermind. She shook her head, still trying to assimilate the new information. "Why is it that the more I try to distance myself from my family, the more I'm forced to see them?" Wryly, she smiled.

  Clement would have to wait.

  // Chapter 29 //

  THE CARRIAGE PULLED to a slow stop in front of the Barnes family mansion. Climbing out, Arabeth stopped and stood, confused. Life around the house bustled, with servants coming and going, many carrying bags or boxes. A few had chairs and small tables.

  Arabeth watched, looking for a pattern in the chaos. It wasn't the right weather to rotate seasonal furniture or decor.

  "It looks like you're expecting a lot of company," Sam said. "They're taking all of that to the guest house."

  "Great timing," she said sarcastically, expecting it would be one of the wings of the family from the capital city. But maybe it wasn't…. What if it were more people like her father's last guests?

  She followed the servants around, hoping to ask one of them. As she went around the corner, she confirmed the items were being taken to the guest house.

  Marble darted off to her right and as Arabeth turned, her breath caught in her throat. Behind the main house, someone had built a stone structure resembling a monastery or one of the castles of old. Around it sat a city of some design. None of it stood taller than her hip but it extended out over nearly half an acre. It was small, as though built to scale, as a model. Right now Marble was running and leaping over buildings as if there were a mouse to chase.

  Arabeth shook her head. Her parents had the strangest hobbies. Her mother had one of these built in the lowest level of the main house, but it was a replica of world laid flat.

  Staring at the new toy, the memory of her father's most recent guests blended with another memory. Servants had come and gone from the house over the years - some leaving for days, some for hours. Others she didn't know would arrive suddenly and stay long enough to recover from their journey, then leave again.

  Her mother said it was the family’s duty to tend to the servants of relatives that were on extended errands. She had excused it as the unseen side of business and finance. Arabeth believed her, but … were they planning something that required a deep knowledge of how to get around that city, as though they were spies? That would be amazing, but unexpected. Her parents stressed home and family, and staying out of all but the fringes of politics. Still, it added up.

  "Are you all right?" Sam asked, touching her shoulder.
<
br />   Her body shuddered as she came out of deep thinking and looked around. "I need to speak with my mother as well, it seems."

  Nodding, he followed as she turned.

  Inside the house, the chaos continued. As the two of them wove their way upstairs to her father's study, it was quieter, calmer. Arabeth knocked on the door and pushed it open to see if her father was inside.

  "Close the door behind you, dear," her father, Eldon, said as he waved her in.

  He waited as Arabeth and Marble entered, but startled slightly when Hicks followed her in.

  Sam bowed, but kept his expression neutral.

  "How can I be of assistance?" Eldon smiled at Arabeth. "What is on your mind?"

  "That is a big question. I am discovering a lot of things." She smiled back as she pulled off her coat and dropped to sit in a soft, oversized chair. "Our backyard, for example, has a model that is eerily built to scale. But which city is it? I am guessing it's the Eltesian capital."

  Eldon nodded.

  Arabeth pulled out the envelope and slid it across his desk but did not let go.

  "I, too, have a puzzle," she said. "Someone is building an army in our backyard. Each automaton is equipped with a transmitter set to a frequency that causes violence in humans, predominantly in men. Did you know about this?"

  "I did not know the specifics. Where did you find this army?" her father asked.

  "There is a large, abandoned hospital to the west, outside the city. They were constructed there, then sent northeast of the city. It looked as though they are gathering to travel along the North Highway. I'm not sure where they are now, but this is a picture of what they're building."

  She pulled out the picture of the automatons and showed it to him. "That's what they're building." She pulled out the second picture. "Does anyone in this picture look familiar?"

  Eldon pulled the second picture close and looked at each face. "Where did you get this picture?"

  "I take it this is significant. I'm working on a way to defeat their signal, but I need to know where they're going."

  "Arabeth…." Her father drummed his fingers on the desk. "You don't want to get mixed up in this. There are some very powerful men in this picture. One or two of them could destroy us without blinking."

  "That's why I have to stop them. What they're doing is unethical and inhumane. If they are those kind of men, we can't let them - "

  Eldon tapped the desk. "You aren't listening. We have to be smart about this." He stood up and walked to the door. Leaning out, he called for Carol, then returned to his seat.

  "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

  "That's why I'm bringing your mother in on this. This is more her area of expertise than mine."

  Arabeth's mother walked in wearing her usual long blue dress that resembled more of a ball gown than a house dress.

  "Yes, Eldon, what do you need?" She stopped and looked quizzically at Arabeth and Hicks.

  Marble stood up and circled to Arabeth's far side.

  "Come in, dear. Our eldest daughter has information that will be of interest to you." He looked directly at Carol. "To you and your network."

  She hesitated a moment, head turned slightly to one side as she considered his words before moving to sit in the oversized chair opposite Arabeth.

  Eldon stood up and took the pictures over to Carol. "I think you'll find these very interesting."

  "Let's see then." Her tone was mildly dismissive but her eyebrows shot up as soon as she got a good look. "Oh my. It would seem that our worst fears are happening. Where did you find these, daughter?"

  "They're part of a puzzle I've been working on. Last week I subdued an automaton that uses radio signals to trigger the violent part of a person's brain. I've been working on a way to interfere with that," Arabeth said.

  Her words came slowly as she puzzled out her situation. This wasn't a strange dream. Her parents really were sitting here, taking her seriously and acting like they were part of something bigger as well. Knowing, understanding, and accepting were three separate stages.

  "What is going on here?" Arabeth asked.

  Eldon nodded. "I suppose we do owe you something of an explanation."

  "You can't," her mother snapped. "She is not a part of this."

  Eldon stared at the pictures in Carol's hands until she looked back down at them. A moment later her shoulders slumped.

  "Indeed, she may be more a part than even we are," he said. It was what her mother feared. He looked at Arabeth. "Daughter, we've tried to protect you from this, to keep you safely living the myth of security."

  "These are vaguarities. Be clear." Arabeth didn't mean to speak quite so abruptly, but this was just more of them interfering with her life.

  She glanced at Sam, wondering if he knew the truth behind their words. He looked uncomfortable but said nothing.

  "What about Maralise? Does she know?" Arabeth asked.

  Carol nodded and leaned forward, holding the photos out for Arabeth to take back.

  "With her tendency to eavesdrop or barge into rooms, she figured it out by the time she was fifteen. She is one of my operatives now." She shook her head and stood. "We wanted to save you from it, but you seem magnetically drawn to whatever will cause me the most grief."

  Arabeth started to smile. Little snippets of her past started to slide into place, like a wooden slider puzzle. As they did, she felt excitement wash through her veins.

  "I understand. You're spies," she said.

  Her mother sat a little straighter in her seat and her left cheek twitched slightly. "Most of my ladies are information specialists. Very few are spies. My network of strategically placed ladies works for the peace and prosperity of people like you."

  People like her. It felt like a slap, somehow. Immediately Arabeth's excitement twisted and reshaped. This was the same old tripe, she realized. Her mother continued to view her as almost a different species.

  "Why?" The word slipped out. It wasn't that she wanted her mother's approval, specifically, but it irked her to be so patently sorted out, excluded.

  "You can do better things as a gadgeteer. Your devices are far more valuable to us than passing notes and whispering in shadows," her father said softly.

  His soothing turn of phrase did not ease Arabeth's anger, but she wouldn’t let it fester.

  "That is not the point," Carol said, her voice tinged with an anger of her own and she glared at Eldon a moment before she spoke again. "I hear you are working on a distanced listening device. That is of great interest to us. Do you have a prototype ready?"

  Eldon's eyebrows went up. "You have a what?" He looked at Arabeth, puzzled.

  Arabeth startled at that. She hadn't done more than collect the parts, and hadn't told anyone what they were for. How had her mother figured it out? Arabeth looked at Sam. Had she told him? She couldn't remember.

  "I…,” she started, sorting her thoughts as she went. “In breaking down the transmitters, I realized they could be scaled down even further and placed in areas as a listening device. Also, matching the transmission frequency of the Maddening Device and using a stronger power source interferes with the broadcast that makes people violent."

  "Is this fact? How was it tested?" her father asked. His eyes had narrowed but his expression stayed soft, curious.

  Arabeth paused, wondering if she should share names, or be vague herself. Better to start vague and work from there, she decided.

  "Mr Rogers – your friend with the radio station - sent a signal out using the frequency I suggested. During the test, no new violence was reported."

  "I see," he said, adopting a more thoughtful pose. "You may have resolved our biggest technological hurdle in this struggle. Did you tell anyone? Graham?"

  "He told me he'd built the prototype."

  Eldon smiled. "Good."

  She wondered what that meant.

  "Arabeth, please put your listening devices together and bring them here as soon as you can. I would like to te
st them, and if they work well, put them immediately into the field," Carol said.

  A twinge in Arabeth's gut fought the idea, but she nodded. It made sense. She shouldn't be quite so possessive.

  "I should have them ready tomorrow afternoon, if all goes well."

  She stood up, unsure if this was an acceptable outcome. Certainly, she'd been given more information, but she was still outside her parents’ trust. They did this to keep her safe, because her value as a tinker was worth protecting. That was a double-edged sword, considering where her gadgeteering took her. There was no way they could actually protect her.

  Arabeth stopped on the other side of the door and looked at Hicks. "We're going to have a nice long talk, I think." He'd professed his love for her, but was that part of his assignment? Spies were often called on to take extraordinary measures to get their job done. Or so she'd read.

  "Wait." She turned back and leaned back in through the door. "Is there a war coming?" she asked.

  "It does seem that way, yes. Not next week, I think, but soon. And now I'm thinking it's sooner than we expected," Eldon said.

  "Thank you." She appreciated her father’s honesty.

  She realized her mother must be too accustomed to keeping secrets because she growled a warning at him, which just made him laugh.

  "Also, is Clement Ballantine one of yours?"

  Eldon and Carol both faced her directly.

  "Why?" They both asked.

  "He says he has a project for me and another gadgeteer, but that he needs me to keep it secret. He put guards outside my house."

  "Do you feel this project might put you or others in danger?" Carol asked.

  "Not his project. It's more a question of why he isn't hiring a more accessible gadgeteer. I’m rarely home, and when I am, I’m already neck deep in my own work.” She paused, hating the doubts that crept into her mind about her great godfather. Still, they were there and needed to be addressed. “I have to wonder how much of this is about Grandfather's lab."

  "Keep him out of there, Arabeth," Eldon said. "I'm dead serious about this."