The Gadgeteer Box Set

by Gin Hollan

  “I don’t think he has explosives in mind, but I don’t doubt his determination.”

  Sam paused. “And a sufficiently deranged mind will work to find a way.”

  “Right.” She looked over at the spot where the hole had been. Was that what it looked like when someone used a lyar to spy on you without a yellow crystal to hide it? “I think I need a break, too.”

  She looked at a clock and was startled to see it said 2 am. “Or maybe I should try to sleep.” Could she, though? How would that go with people potentially looking in on her? She made a disapproving sound.

  “Sam, if you knew for a fact that someone plotted to destroy Blastborn, but you couldn’t prove it and you knew that the job was beyond the ability of police or other authorities to deal with, what would you do?”

  “I’ll need more information before I can say anything. You wouldn’t believe something you couldn’t prove, though, so what could it be?”

  She fiddled with a stray thread on her shirt before cutting it off, thinking over how to phrase it.

  “This going to sound mad, but I suspect the lyar is going to be used to tear down some or all of the mountain. I don’t know how - or even if it’s possible. Should we convince the mayor to evacuate Blastborn to the south?”

  “Without evidence, he won’t do anything.” Sam looked unconvinced, but his demeanour shifted as he thought it through. “We have seen impossible things before, but no one would evacuate until the threat becomes real to them.”

  “And at this point, they’re more inclined to head for the capitol anyway, which would aggravate the situation there.” Arabeth found a nearby chair and flopped down in it.

  “Harbertrope wants you to calm people down, but a brewing situation will cause panic, no matter what you do. If you try to save their lives, they will do exactly the one thing that could get them killed - head for the mountains.”

  There was a third option. She could chase after the madman and his accomplice. That wasn’t a problem. Her Bail Enforcement tracking skills were intact, and the tools and devices sat at the ready, some of them a permanent part of how she stocked her satchel now. This time, though, she didn’t understand the technology involved.

  “I know that look,” Sam said. “Before you do anything, I have an idea.”

  She shot him a worried look. “I get nervous every time you volunteer an idea.”

  “Fine,” Sam laughed. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She shook her head. “I have to stop them. Tamden and the other man - Howard. That’s an odd name, right? Anyway, if he was locked in the mountain, there was a good reason to do it. Whatever he was doing before he got locked away, odds are good he’s back at it. I have to recapture him. He’s out because of me, whether Iwas conned or not.”

  She squinted at him. Normally he’d put up some kind of protest, but he was agreeing. Arabeth smiled. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Before he could, there was a rumbling near the hole in her wall.

  “Arabeth, back up,” he ordered. Somehow, he didn’t seem surprised by this new noise.

  A slow light started small and grew out in a ring until it touched floor to ceiling. There was no staying in the shadows now. Not with the intense light it was throwing.

  The silhouette of a man appeared, walking forward. Arabeth and Sam stayed still, watching from their spot against the opposite wall.

  As the portal closed, light reflected around the room and Arabeth thought she recognized the person now standing on her workshop floor.

  “Sebastian?” she whispered, not realizing she’d spoke. She ducked down to snap open her lantern. As the soft glow filled the room, she squinted, unsure if she could trust her eyes.

  “I’m sorry for the surprise. We had to exercise caution. I wasn’t sure how much you’d told people,” Sam said.

  “Ah, Sam. Money well-spent, after all.” His smile seemed fake, and the edge of his eyes showed a hint of desperation. Turning to face them, he gave them a slight bow. “Greetings, my friends. I come seeking political asylum.”

  Arabeth felt her blood chill as he spoke. “How are you free?” There were far too many criminals walking the streets, she decided. How was Sam embroiled in this most recent plot?

  Sebastian was an ethically challenged business man, and would be looking for profit and power, not asylum. Poor choice, though, Arabeth thought. Blastborn would not be an easy target. Commerce was in their blood, but disruption was on their minds right now. In their present state of mind, they’d take it out of Sebastian’s hide, if they caught on to his scheme.

  “Can you recommend a place for me to take up quarters? I need a rental - something I can pay by the month … or purchase? If you allow foreign investors, I will buy.” he said.

  “Ridiculous. Why are you here?” Arabeth spat. She spun to face Sam. “And why is he in my workshop?” He hadn’t warned her about Sebastian’s arrival, and she’d have insisted on a different spot, if he had.

  Sebastian …be via portal ... into HER workshop. She wasn’t sure how to process that information. Door locks wouldn’t be enough, now. And he was obviously in league with Sam. Who else was he working with?

  The portal snapped shut, leaving a few dead leaves and an odd smell behind. Arabeth took a moment to scan the room. She looked at the ground and spotted a small, dark disk under where the portal had been.

  “No one will be ready to receive you this late at night,” Sam said, turning him by arm toward the workshop exit. “You’ll need a hotel, for now. We may as well get that done.”

  Arabeth walked over and picked up the disk, slipping the palm-sized device into her pocket. She’d take it apart later.

  “Did Andun release you?” Arabeth stared, then the unthinkable crossed her mind. “Or was it Sam?”

  “I think you know the answer to that,” Sebastian said through a humourless smile.

  “I’ll explain later,” Sam said, putting a hand on Arabeth’s shoulder. “This won’t take long.”

  Arabeth leaned in close to whisper. “Don’t bother. I’m changing the locks.”

  “Forget her,” Sebastian said, stomping out. Sam hesitated, but followed him out. If not for that moment, she’d think Sam was under some form of mind control. He’d said nothing, acting like his usual self this whole time.

  Suddenly Arabeth felt light-headed, dizzy. Sitting down on her heels, she knew she had to stop whatever his plan was here. There were stacks of competing questions, and she needed a few minutes to sort through them. Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint of light. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to calm down. Deep breaths.

  Standing again, she felt a usually dormant part of her mind snap awake, letting her process at a higher speed. Relived, she let her mind flow down paths of reason and logic,grateful to let them lead.

  She had a few tricks up her own sleeve, not the least of which included the items she used when tracking down other fugitives. Citizen’s arrest was still legal. She’d try that. Sebastian had the upper hand in Vensay by virtue of knowledge, power, and reputation. Here, that was her advantage.

  She pulled her satchel out from a box in the corner of a room. The sedatives would need replacing. They grew weaker over time. Sebastian would need a full dose.

  Hurrying to the make-shift fox-den where Marble and the kits nested, she leaned in. They were fine; safe, comfortable, asleep. Marble must have found a few more cloths and soft things to tuck in. Their space on the industrial shelving looked a lot more fox-friendly today.

  True, Marble was accustomed to odd sounds and occurrences in the workshop, and the kits would work off mom’s cue. She was thankful they hadn’t come out, curious. It was almost unfox-like, but she was grateful.

  Their safety confirmed, she focused on leaving. She’d get answers from Sam, even if they were lies. She could read through his, most of the time. There was no way he was doing this of his own free will.

  // Chapter 9 //

  SAM SAT ON the steps of the hotel,
off to one side. If he was a smoker, Arabeth imagined that's what he would be doing. Instead, he was a drinker. According to Melanie, he’d started shortly after her marriage to Matthew.

  Her being single again hadn’t stopped it, so she knew that was just an excuse. Or was it her ambiguity over his proposal? Still, he ought to look after his health.

  He swirled an amber liquid around in a whiskey glass, raising it against the lamp light.

  “You may as well come over, Abby. I can feel you staring.” He lowered his hand, holding the glass on his leg.

  As she stepped out of the shadows on the other side of the street, a motion in a window on the third floor caught her eye. Sebastian. Heaving a sigh, she walked over to where Sam relaxed and joined him.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes. Arabeth’s mind started to spin around the fact that he’d opened a portal into her workshop. There was no excusing that and she was still livid. That was an in-flexible boundary.

  “So, if you ever open a portal in one of my workshops again, friendship won’t save you,” she stated as calmly as she could. A cold threat worked far better than a hot one, anyway.

  “Fair enough. He can land in your living room next time.”

  Arabeth paused a moment, hoping to God he was joking. She narrowed her eyes, looking at him.

  He glanced at her then chuckled.

  “I get it. No more portals into your life.” He put his drink down and reached over, taking one of her hands. “It's been a strange few months, Abby. Let's just sit here and pretend life is normal for a little while.”

  Pulling her hand free, she sighed.

  “Tell me what's going on so I know what to think. Being my oldest friend only earns you a little grace,” she said.

  He lifted the glass to his mouth and emptied it, swallowing hard.

  “Or tell me why I shouldn't go up there and treat him like every other escaped criminal.”

  He snorted. “If you can capture him, go ahead.”

  “Talk to me,” she said, frowning.

  He shook his head and stood up. “Sorry, Abby. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  He seemed more like his old self for a moment, then his face changed, hardening.

  With Sebastian right upstairs she suspected he'd say that, but she wanted answers. In the absence of an explanation, she was torn. She trusted Sam, but this was a big ask.

  “Alright, Mister Hicks. Do what you have to do.”

  Back home again, Arabeth hovered over her work desk, examining the manner in which the new metal had – or in this case, hadn’t – blended into a new amalgam. It simply refused to blend. Frustrated, she slammed her magnifier, bumping a set of calipers.

  “Be careful,” Sam chided.

  Arabeth jumped, not realizing he'd followed her back. As the callipers clattered to the floor, she scowled at him.

  “Knock. You know the rules,” she snapped.

  He smirked. “What if I'm here to break a few?”

  She paused. “Which ones?” She narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his end game then shook her head. “This has to do with Sebastian, and that means I'm not interested.” He’d been drinking, something he did a fair bit in the last few years.

  “Even if it has to do with the lyar?” he teased.

  She stooped down and picked up the fallen tools, giving herself a moment to guard against what he was suggesting.

  “No.”

  He shrugged. “Even if it sends Sebastian back?”

  “Even if … wait, he's going back? He said he needed room and board for months.”

  He lifted the calipers and fiddled with them, avoiding her gaze. “He's changed his mind.”

  “What's his game?” The question came out slowly as she stared at Sam.

  He shrugged again. “No one wants to talk business with him.”

  “I don't have time to play whatever game you two are up to.” She shook her head. Sam was hiding something from her, she knew. “You may think I'm gullible, but even I know that if he wants to buy, all he needs is money and that he has plenty of.”

  “So … you won't send him back?”

  “Not to where he's expecting.” She looked away, irritated that her work was being interrupted over this. “He would have factored in my willingness to send him away when he planned to come over. He can walk home,” she said, dismissively.

  Sam was chuckling when she glanced his way.

  “I'll let him know.” He turned to go.

  “Wait, what is your part in all this?” Arabeth reached out and grabbed his arm. “Tell me what's going on.”

  He didn't say anything at first, then shrugged. “I'm playing the pawn, as usual.”

  “We both know you are no one's pawn. Why is that beast out of prison? And why are you helping him?”

  “He bought his way out, is my guess. Political pressure from several high-level families forced Andun's hand. I'm not helping. Not exactly. I'm keeping an eye on him. We need to find out who his contacts are and the only way to do that is to let him contact them. He has a miss-guided notion of social class superiority, so I'm letting that work against him.”

  Sam leaned in to whisper, “Your crystal field will let us talk without being over-heard.”

  She paused a fraction of a second then realized Melanie must have told him about it. Leading him out the back door, she stopped at the top of the steps so he could get a good look before they walked into it.

  “I won't be effected, right? We've done this before and I barely changed,” Sam asked.

  “Well, I don't know if the effect can be strengthened or changed. I've never measured it but the crystals change colour from time to time, so it's not outside the realm of the possible. I suspect we all have the silver in our blood, to varying degrees, given who our ancestors are. That amount may vary. Concentration may be a predisposition, not limit.”

  “That might explain Graham's recent hospital visit. He went in, claiming to have developed a rare blood disorder,” he said.

  “You mean to say … he's experimenting on himself, now? Surly old codger!” Arabeth spat.

  “Surly? Is that the word you meant to use? And he's only ten years older than us.”

  “He's failed to transition, twice.” Arabeth held her tongue about Graham’s ‘vision problem’ and his recent visit to the crystal garden.

  “You don’t think he's injecting himself with …” Sam hesitated. “Something that will replicate the blood anomaly, do you?”

  “He’s done crazier things.”

  “I think we'll need to keep a closer eye on him.”

  Arabeth nodded, but she was having a hard time convincing herself to worry about Graham.

  She looked sideways at Sam, not staring exactly. People's eyes were drawn to what they find attractive or interesting. It was instinct. Besides, her heart didn't exactly race when she looked. He was a puzzle. Maybe it was more that she wanted to know what he was thinking.

  “I'm guessing you have specific expectations for your future wife. Would an occupation and a housemaid be within those parameters?”

  “What?” His eyes widened a moment then he coughed. “Why are we talking about this now?”

  Arabeth blushed but held his eye contact. “Well, it really doesn’t seem that you’ve missed me all that much, and I’m curious if I’m in the process of dodging a bullet or not.”

  “Blunt, as usual. You want to know if I want my wife to choose between a career and raising children.”

  She nodded.

  “We do have a conflict of plan if children are a question, and I would like at least two.” He looked at her a moment before he shrugged. “It's a hard balance - if there are children, their needs have to be accounted for, to a certain age. I like to think I'd be a father who participates in their rearing, but as to both of us having an outside income, I like to think things would stay as they are. Birthing and recovery involves sleep and days of bed rest, the doctors tell me. After that, are you setting up a nursery section in the wo
rkshop, or hiring a nanny? If you do, what’s the point of having children, expect as adornments?”

  Arabeth smiled. “That was a little more detailed than I expected.”

  He turned to face her. “Does this mean you're giving serious thought to becoming a wife and mother?”

  “You asked me to choose you if I do and I'm growing curious - what do people define as a healthy marriage?” She wasn't happy with the sudden coyness that struck her. She blushed and looked away. “I'm just checking off boxes.”

  He nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  “Back to the matter at hand - follow me,” she said, needing some space from the conversation.

  As Arabeth walked into the middle of the crystals, they started to glow softly, like they recognized her. She smiled at the notion. Crystals were not house pets.

  “This is the best spot. If anything can keep others from crystal-based eavesdropping, it'll be here among my crystals … unless they broadcast, instead,” she sighed contentedly, then wondered why. Maybe it was an effect of being among the crystals. The air did feel calm here.

  “There's something I've wanted to ask you, and our time apart brought it back to mind,” Sam said.

  Arabeth's heart thudded in her chest a couple times before she responded. “I take it this is personal.”

  He nodded and reached out for one of her hands. “If I'm overstepping my boundaries, just say so.”

  “Do you think, if I had tried to stop your wedding … would we still be friends?”

  “To be fair, you did say something, but I was too blind to listen.”

  “I did?” he tilted his head to one side a bit.

  “You asked if I'd miss you, since society dictated that a married woman not have male friends.”

  “What did you say?” It pained her to think about it. Her reply had been glib, thoughtless, really.

  “I couldn't see how things would change, because Matthew didn't seem like the jealous type.”

  Sam looked deep into her eyes. For a fleeting moment, pain flashed across his face then he nodded. “I didn’t tell you all of the truth about Matthew.”

  Startled, Arabeth’s pulse shot up. “Do I want to know?”