The Gadgeteer

by Gin Hollan

  "I'm just tired. Work is complicated. Life is complicated. It'll pass. Tell me about the attacks," Melanie said.

  "Remember the automaton?"

  "Sure! There were a lot of people arrested that day."

  "Exactly." Arabeth gave the cab driver her instructions and paid him in advance before climbing in the cab.

  She sat on the couch opposite Melanie and set her satchel gently beside her, ensuring Marble was comfortable.

  "When did you first notice the changes that led to what was going on in your apartment building?" Arabeth asked.

  "I went for a walk and decided to try a different route. Someone told me about this interesting area to the south."

  "Houses on a chessboard pattern?"

  Melanie shook her head. "No, there's a new park. They call it a park, but it looks like a really large lawn. Short, evenly cut grass. Oh, and a brook and a gazebo. It's really quite peaceful, except that's where my headache started and where my ears started ringing. We aren't going near there, are we?"

  "I'm taking you to my cousin's house. It's out of town, to the southeast. It's vacant at the moment, except for the caretaker. He will be happy to have some company, I'm sure. Did you eat or drink anything while you were there?"

  She shook her head. "There was a new silver iron grill up in the gazebo, but no one was using it."

  "You have a startling attention to detail, you know that?" Arabeth smiled. "What else can you tell me about the park?"

  Melanie thought about it for a moment, then gasped. "He was there! Even at a distance, I'd know that silhouette anywhere. Of course, I didn't know him at the time."

  "The man from outside your apartment?"

  She nodded, hand covering her neck. "He was walking a dog. A large one, with short hair. Thin. Like a pointer."

  "Tell me more about that," Arabeth prompted.

  "That's all there is, really." She paused. "But no. The dog wasn't his. He was holding it for someone. I didn't recognize the other person, or their child."

  None of the details regarding the dog and its family had meaning at this point, but Arabeth filed the information away mentally, just in case.

  The cab rolled to an easy stop at the entrance to Betsy’s family’s estate. It was unlit, but then again, it was mid-morning now.

  Harold Jacobs answered the door, smiling. "I saw your cab pull up this time, Mrs Dane. Welcome in."

  "Thank you, Harold. Please just call me Arabeth. This is my friend Melanie. We have a favour to ask. I need to hide her here for a while."

  He frowned, a little off-put. "Are you sure this is allowed?"

  "Let me explain," Melanie offered as she walked into the main receiving room, the same room Harold had lit the candles in last time. She stepped up to a table and pulled out the whiskey. "Without this, my ears ring and I turn violent. When I fall asleep, I need someone to remind me this is a temporary fix if I wake up violent. I'm not suitable company for anyone at the moment, but I won't see the doctors. They'll just lock me away in a sanitarium and drug me."

  Arabeth put the other bottle beside it. Melanie kept no secrets, it seemed.

  "This is asking a lot, but can you time when she has her drinks? There is a ringing in her ears, like tinnitus, that precedes any violence. We need to see if the ringing fades or worsens over time. I'd do it myself but I'm looking for the cause, so I can figure a real cure."

  Arabeth hoped Mr. Jacobs would see this as a mission of mercy—a way to contribute to the wellbeing of another, the thing that gave his work for her cousins meaning.

  He was slow to nod at first, then smiled. "If you don't mind, Betsy's room is intact. I can move out the breakables and leave the books. At least you won't be completely stuck for things to do."

  "Mr. Jacobs, thank you." Arabeth smiled. Considering what she was asking, he was the logical choice. People weren't often logical. She turned to Melanie. "I'll be back later to see how you're getting on. I hope to have more information then."

  // Chapter 9 //

  Arabeth raised her arms out beside her and inhaled deeply. None of this made sense. She held her breath a moment before lowering her arms and slowly exhaling.

  It was a little wet out for a walk. She looked up. The sky was darkening. She'd walk fast. But to where, now? Should she risk the park? Or warn the police that it was a potential source of harm?

  Was there something hidden, or disguised, at the park? Maybe there was a device under the gazebo. If it were she trying to experiment on the public, she'd move the source around often. Had any of her informants heard anything ... or been affected? They were out and about often. That was what made them good at their job. Were they warned off certain locations by others they knew?

  Suddenly, finding one of her informants became her top priority. Larry, Bernie, or maybe Lacy from the apothecary.... People may go in, looking for a way to ease their own symptoms.

  No. Later. She'd do that later. The police must know at least as much as she did by now. Did they have a plan? Who was working on it?

  A cab was nearing and she waved to catch the driver's attention. Hicks must know what's going on.

  "Take me to the main police detachment please," she said as she passed him the fare. "Wait … do you mind if I ride up front with you? It's a little unnerving to ride in the back these days. I like to see what's going on around me," she lied. Really, she was hoping he had a story or two about recent events. She held out another coin. He gave her a quick lookover and nodded. When he took the coin, she grabbed the mounting rail and pulled herself up to sit.

  She let the cab roll on a street or two before breaking the silence.

  "Horses are amazing, right. They're pretty smart, I'm told. Is there any part of town they won't go?" She tried to sound casual, like horses were a natural conversation choice due to their being right in front of them.

  "Yes, some of them are. Some are not. It's the ones in the middle that make the best cab horses. They go where I drive because they've learned to trust me."

  "Ah, I see." She nodded. "Do they ever give you trouble?"

  He looked at her through narrowed eyes a moment before responding. "What can I say, horses are horses. If you're asking about the fights, and drunks, and all that, I stay out of their business, but I will say business is good right now. I'll take the drinkers over non-drinkers right now, though, and that's a strange thing."

  She nodded. "Drinking takes the edge off, right? It's a complete reversal of expectations."

  He looked at her again. "Who are you?"

  She smiled. "I'm doing a bit of detective work."

  "A woman detective?" He laughed. "Isn't that a bit rough for you?"

  "Well, until last week I was a bounty hunter, so...." She gave the man a minute to digest that thought.

  "You're Mrs. Dane!" He seemed happy at the thought. "I've read about you in the papers, about your amazing capture rate. And now you're a detective? How did that happen?"

  "The bounty hunting program is being discontinued. This was a natural segue. I'm not with the police, though. And call me Barnes - my husband has passed away."

  "A detective for hire? Now there's a rare bird." He sat back, looking smug. "And you're working on this 'criminal plague,' as the papers are calling it?"

  "Sort of. I'm working more on the cause, than on the ‘who did it’ part."

  "But you have an idea who is behind it, don't you?" He turned an unexpected corner, away from the police station.

  "Where are you going?"

  "There's something you need to see."

  "What's your name?"

  "Call me Alexander."

  "Nice to meet you, Alexander."

  A couple waved at him from the side of the street, trying to hire him. He tipped his hat at them, a cue he'd already been engaged.

  "What is it you're wanting to show me?"

  "It's not much farther, and I won't go close. I'll have to point at it and you can come back if you want, on your own."

  Suddenly Ma
rble started madly wriggling around, almost thrashing. "Stop the horses. Now!" Arabeth commanded. Opening her bag, she tried to reassure Marble, but the fox tried to leap out, pawing madly to get away. She slapped the flap back down, buckling it.

  "Sorry. Thank you for the lead." She jumped down off the seat, grabbing the cab rail to slow her descent. Running, she went in the opposite direction they had been travelling. Turned out to be a good thing she’d brought Marble, for a couple reasons.

  "Poor girl." She opened the flap and started petting her. "How about we go home?"

  She wanted to mark that spot on her map and see if it lined up with any of the other marks. This time she was going to lock herself in the lab. She'd had enough interruptions and unwelcome visitors for a while. Why couldn't they just keep pretending she lived on the moon or in some crazy, foreign land?

  Back at home, she locked the outside door and considered outright changing the locks. Too many people had keys.

  Marble was overjoyed to be home and out of the bag. She leapt out and ran a few circles around Arabeth, then darted out her tiny door. Bathroom break.

  While Marble was out, Arabeth got both of them something to eat and drink, then carried the snacks to one of the desks in her lab. Marble would come back in via her fox door.

  Back in the workshop, alone in the quiet, she felt exhausted. Sitting, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Moments later Marble jumped up in her lap and lay down. Together they sat, quietly, resting.

  The back of her mind wouldn't calm, but she was used to that. She ignored it, focusing instead on her breathing for a few minutes. Feeling relaxed overall, she then let the thoughts that had been accumulating and waiting for evaluation come forward.

  It was dark out the next time she walked out of the workshop. At some point she'd moved to a small cot in the back of the room, having moved it in for times when her husband was home and she didn't want to disturb his rest. When she was working on a new project, her tendency was to work until she fell asleep, and get up as soon as she was able. That could be a series of three- or four-hour rotations, not conducive to a solid night's rest.

  Marble jogged around, looking happy and ready to play. Arabeth's relief was palpable. Packing her satchel again, she made sure to throw in a mini-flask or two.

  A rumbling noise, like someone pushing at things, caused her to grab the nearest solid object to use as a weapon—in this case a mug—and turn toward the sound. There was more rustling, drawing her to the living room.

  As she tiptoed in, a stack of books fell off a short table in front of the couch.

  A familiar form was asleep on the couch, slowly kicking things off the coffee table as he tossed.

  "Sam?" she whispered.

  He could have knocked. Maybe he had. Her instruction to stay out just meant not coming in uninvited. Then again, why was he asleep now, too? She checked her watch. It was three a.m.? She'd slept twelve hours? How?

  She watched him sleep, perhaps a little longer than she should have. He was ... more than simply handsome. He was interesting. She’d been being defensive when she told her mother she'd marry him, but it was true she'd choose him before any other man. They'd been friends for decades and their contrasts were complementary. She didn't even mind his nagging about her spending. He had every right, coming from a background where his father spent every penny on a business that had failed in the end.

  Hicks rolled to sit up, shaking his head. "Sorry, fell asleep waiting."

  She smiled. "You have news?"

  "Probably nothing you haven't heard.The grapevine says you and Melanie had an interesting day."

  She frowned. "Right, interesting. That reminds me, I need to buy a case of whiskey next time I'm out."

  His eyebrows shot up. "Whiskey? There's a story behind that, I'm thinking."

  "Melanie needs it."

  "An entire case? For what?"

  "She's been affected by the madness, and it's temporarily cured with alcohol, in small but strong doses. I'm still puzzled as to how, or why. But I'm going to start carrying a small flask."

  "Could it be used for prevention?"

  "I think so, but you're not condoning city-wide drunkenness, right?" She laughed.

  "That's the thing; the pubs are the least chaotic places lately. It's the good and sober folks that are going mad."

  She moved to sit in a chair next to him.

  "I'm suspecting short-range radio waves," Arabeth said flatly. "But I have no evidence. It's just me playing with theories."

  "Your theories are generally sound. Tell me the reasoning behind this one."

  "The dispersal equipment can be small enough to be hidden in anything, and there's no direct contact required, like if you were going to use biological influencers. Also, it's easier to control the range. And then there's Marble's reaction. There's an audio signal outside our range of hearing. The hardest part is that I have to find spots where there's no broadcast interference."

  "We should add radio stations to the map, see how they fit in."

  "Brilliant!" Arabeth jumped up and headed back to her map.

  It took Hicks a few minutes to follow, still groggy from sleep. When he walked in, she had half of them already plotted. "I think this counts as clues. I marked which frequency each station broadcasts at, as well, and it accounts for some of the crime-free areas."

  "Interesting," Hicks agreed. "This would seem to support your theory."

  "Finally, a decent clue. That's the how. Now we have to figure out the who and why of it."

  "Which radio station is closest to here?" Hicks asked.

  She pointed to a spot on the map. "It's pretty close. Halfway between here and the main police station. I wonder what would happen if they boosted their signal strength."

  "That would be an important first step to protecting as many people as possible. We'd want to ensure that no one convinces them to change their broadcast frequency as well."

  "I know the owner. I'll have a chat with him and explain things," Arabeth said.

  Hicks’s expression told her he doubted that was true.

  "Mr. Rogers is a billiards buddy of my father’s. They play twice monthly, sometimes at a club, sometimes at private venues. They occasionally used the table we have at home to work on strategy."

  "Takes it seriously, does he?"

  "Only when you beat him." She laughed.

  "Which you've done."

  "He bets favours, never money, but he does take it seriously." Arabeth shrugged. "The point is, I'm sure I can convince him to expand the broadcast range." She chuckled. "I might even let him win a few matches along the way."

  And now she knew how to stay safe while investigating. She hadn't worried about being exposed to a pathogen or other influencer. Not until Marble's problem. Thankfully, the cause of her concern was also the cure. She just had to figure out the radio frequency. Then again, not really. As long as she used the one she knew about, she'd be fine.

  "I'm going back to sleep." She stood. "Now that we have the start of a plan, I'll be able to actually rest."

  Hicks jumped up to his feet. "I'll be going then. When do you think you'll be able to talk to Mr. Rogers?"

  "I'll drop by the radio station tomorrow, but I'm not sure if he's a hands-on manager, so it may be a day or so until I track him down. Come back tomorrow evening. I'm going to fabricate a couple devices for use in areas that station doesn't cover, or in the unlikely event of a power outage there."

  "You've thought that far ahead."

  "This is an intentional attack. I don't think they'll sit quietly as we subvert their plans."

  He nodded. "Right."

  "What's your to-do list?"

  "Legwork. I'm going to see if there have been any large purchases of broadcast equipment or parts lately. Coils, small power sources, relay dishes, that kind of thing."

  "Perfect. Let's meet up again tomorrow evening." It didn't strike her as odd that there was a full-grown, attractive, single male in her house unchap
eroned after dark until that moment. Many considered Hicks to be a highly eligible bachelor, and that he was not given to vice was rare. She sighed. Part of her wished there could be more between them, but no. She'd done the marriage thing once, and that was plenty.

  "What was that about?"

  "Hmm, what?" She hadn't realized she'd done that out loud.

  "The sigh," he asked, eyes narrowed.

  "Well, we have one answer, but it opens up a hundred other ones." That sounded believable. He'd never believe she had more-than-friends thoughts about him now and then, anyway. He'd really be confused if he found out she'd had these thoughts since they first met in junior high, and the feelings had never really gone away.

  "At least we have a direction."

  "That we do," she smiled, offering him his hat, hinting that he needed to go so she could sleep.

  // Chapter 10 //

  The next day, Arabeth headed to the radio station early. If Mr Rogers was an early riser, she wanted to catch him fresh and ready to think. If he wasn’t, someone at the station could tell her when he would be in.

  He was early, but he was also in a bad mood, it seemed. As she stopped outside his office, she heard a quiet stream of invective preceeding what sounded like drawer slamming.

  She rapped softly and pushed the door open a bit more, peeking in. He was alone, and smiling as she entered.

  He waved her in, but didn’t seem to be listening as she started her spiel.

  "Sorry, Arabeth. If the police need us to increase the signal strength, they'll have to pay for it." Mr Rogers was a genial man, even when he was letting her down. Slight jowls and a natural smile helped. "Thanks for the tip, though. I'll be sure to broadcast that information as a public safety measure."

  Panic started to climb up through her limbs, making her shiver once. "You can't let this information out. Not until we catch this man. You must understand, this is our only lead."

  "I think stopping them is the point, regardless of the method."

  "You will cause mass hysteria and won't make a penny. In fact, you may be overrun and suffer property damage instead," she said, scrambling to change his mind. "Are you sure you haven't heard anything about a shortwave transmitter being tested in the area?"