Illusion (Asylum for the Mechanically Insane Book 1)
Page 11
Her heart was in her mouth, her mind a blank and her face wet with tears she didn’t realize were falling as she they left those poor men behind.
Devon was there with her, helping, extending a hand, encouraging his fellows, several of whom seemed terrified or almost paralyzed with a strange blank look on their faces.
At another time, in another place, she might have been terrified herself, but at that moment all she could think about was leading Devon and the others to safety and daylight.
They made their way carefully upward, level after level, clambering awkwardly over and around the rocks that littered the steps. But overall, thought Portia, they were extraordinarily lucky.
And then they were on the first level, surrounded by a hive of buzzing activity, people rushing here and there, a few shouts and cries, a lot of dust—and almost immediately several burly men with what looked like some kind of thin truncheon.
“Good job, girl.” One of them touched Portia’s shoulder. “We was just goin’ down to get ‘em. You saved us the trip.” He turned. “Hey lads. Over ‘ere.”
“Oh noooo….” The dust had dried her throat and all she could manage was a desperate choked whisper.
Ssshh. It’s all right. Don’t say anything. Don’t give yourself away.
A hand found hers and squeezed it hard as the words materialized in her brain.
You know where I am now. I’m not going anywhere. We will try again. And we will succeed. You are special, Portia. Remember that. Remember me.
This time the tears fell rapidly, making trails through the filth her cheeks had gathered as she climbed the stairs. Her hands were dirty as well, but she didn’t care, using them to wipe away the blurry vision so that she could see Devon being herded by the men, away from the bustle, away down a side corridor…and finally out of sight.
A scream split the air and Portia’s heart cracked as she remembered what those men had been holding. Not clubs or truncheons. They were a kind of subtle weapon. She’d seen the tips before, sharp and charged with some sort of electrical power. They’d deliver a painful shock to whatever exposed flesh was touched.
Oh God. Please don’t let it be Devon screaming. I have to save him somehow. I just have to.
*~~*~~*
“Thank you, Dr. Ringwood. Your expertise is truly astounding.”
Alwynne Harbury surveyed the chaos at the entrance to the laboratories with a satisfied air. The man beside her did the same.
“It was a simple thing. A fragment of thonirium too close to an open gas jet…the explosion was loud and the vibrations did, I’m sure, produce damage. But not enough to destroy the facility. ‘T’is as you requested.” He brushed her compliments aside. “I shall require adequate compensation, my lady. You do realize that.”
“Of course. I believe that a job well done should be well rewarded.”
“I don’t want money.”
She glanced at him. “No? What then? Equipment perhaps…an assistant or two? Name it. For this…” her gaze turned back to the milling crowd, “you may ask for pretty much anything.” She inclined her head. “I will not hide that you have just helped me out of an almost impossible situation and I am in your debt.”
“I saw the bodies, my lady. I understand.”
She regarded him steadily, saying nothing.
“I want a guinea pig.”
“Pardon?”
“Walk with me, if you would be so kind, and let me explain the details of my latest and most exciting experiment...”
TO BE CONTINUED…
There had been a dreadful accident at Harbury Hall that had resulted in the cessation of the transplantation experiments and also eliminated any unpleasant evidence, thus sparing the Harburys the embarrassment of explaining a couple of mutilated corpses.
But that didn’t mean that other equally terrible projects weren’t already underway.
Psychical energy can power much more than a lifelike mannequin. It can also power the devices necessary to purify thonirium, an element discovered a decade ago by Baron Anhaltz von Thonig during his experiments on rare earths. The lanthanides he’d used were corrupted and serendipitously he stumbled upon a new one he’d named after himself, as was his right.
The fact it was the most dangerous and volatile lanthanide in existence was an intriguing side effect and it wasn’t long before mysterious explosions began to occur, isolated events at first, but with increasing frequency. The general public remained unaware, since the authorities didn’t want a panic on their hands, and nobody made any kind of fuss over the odd accidental casualty.
In Whitehall, the much-higher-ranked authorities held meetings. Quietly, after dark, and in unlikely places. No minutes were taken, nor notes allowed. In fact, nobody was ever actually there, according to their schedules, social secretaries or anyone else who knew them.
It was all very hush-hush, which wasn’t surprising since the war in India continued unabated and there was always the concern about spies. Especially where thonirium was involved.
Dr. Merrill Ringwood was an acknowledged expert on thonirium, so it was only to be expected that he’d accept the privacy and almost unlimited funding offered by the Harburys. He had already explored some ideas of his own for the material and Harbury Hall offered him just about everything he needed to continue his experiments. Except one vital component…and fate had just delivered him the chance to procure the perfect specimen.
Fleet Commander Arundel Morton knew nothing about lanthanides, thonirium or German Barons and had never heard of Merrill Ringwood.
Explosions were familiar, though, since he flew airships and waged war from the clouds…or had done until an accident ripped away half his breath. Seared by the fire that had erupted around him in an airship hangar, Del had inhaled the burning heat before the flames began. In a strange twist of fate, he’d survived, with barely any external injuries other than a scorch or two. But one lung had been completely destroyed, which had ended his career as an airship pilot. That position needed both lungs fully functioning to cope with the differences in air pressure and the occasional need for pure oxygen if the air currents were frisky.
Grounded, he missed soaring above the earth like other men would miss an arm or a leg—painfully, achingly and sometimes hopelessly. So he’d accepted an assignment that took him into the depths of Hampshire, far away from an active airfield. All he had to do was examine the plans for a new kind of airship, advise the design team of any problems he noted, and just relax the rest of the time at an elegant country estate until his internal injuries were fully healed.
At least, that’s what he was told…
Find out more in:
Asylum for the Mechanically Insane
Book 2 – Destruction
(Coming in 2014 to an eBook vendor near your Internet)
About the Author
Sahara Kelly is always happy to explain that her spelling errors aren’t really errors, since she was born and raised in England, where an extra “u” is quite in order. She likes to think it adds colour to her writing. Sadly, it’s not a widely held belief in the United States, so she’d like you to know she still retains a lot from her English childhood even though you won’t see much of it in her spelling.
Arriving in America with her almost-complete collection of Leslie Charteris’ Saint novels and a passion for Monty Python, Sahara’s new life eventually expanded to include a husband, offspring, citizenship, and a certain amount of acclimation to her new surroundings. (She still cherishes that extra ”u” though.)
After more than two decades of writing, Sahara is now enjoying the greater freedom offered to authors by the rapidly expanding independent publishing scene and looking forward to many more such experiences. Being freed of restraints has opened doors—for Sahara and many other writers. There are now no impediments; no obstructions barring the path from writer to reader. Which is, in many ways, exactly as originally intended when that first storyteller sat on a rock outside her cave, tugged h
er bearskin around her shoulders and smiled at her kids across the open fire with the words “Once upon a time...” (or however it sounded several million years ago.)
To find out more about Sahara Kelly and her writing, please drop by her website and visit her at:
Sahara Kelly (Website – http://www.saharakelly.com)
This is where Sahara shares none of the intimate details of her life, but will present you with a list of books she'd like you to buy so that she can go do research on a beach in Aruba and be pampered with massages accompanied by drinks with umbrellas in them. She’ll send you a postcard. Thank you.
Let’s Be Social?
When not lazing on tropical beaches, Sahara has a relatively active social presence on the Internet. Take a look:
Sahara on Twitter: http://twitter.com/SaharaKelly
Friend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sahara.kelly
Sahara’s Blog: http://writersaharakelly.blogspot.com
And Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16158.Sahara_Kelly
Since she has jumped into the world of private enterprise literature, Sahara has formed her own little publishing company. You're also welcome to come and check it out at the address below:
SK Private Label Publications
Please bookmark Sahara's website or visit her on her blog, or follow her/friend her on Twitter/Facebook. You can stay on top of what’s on the way from her fertile imagination by subscribing to her newsletter or picking up her app for your iPhone or iPad. Yes, there’s even an app for Sahara Kelly.
Best bet? Subscribe to the newsletter and keep up to date with everything going on by getting on Sahara’s newsletter list here. She likes sending them out and makes them pretty with pictures and the occasional beauty tip, but usually not at a rate of more than one every couple of months. So don’t worry about being swamped with Sahara-stuff. That won’t happen. Evah!
Also by Sahara Kelly:
(*- co-written with S.L. Carpenter)
Madam Charlie
The Gypsy Lovers
Chocolate and High Heels
Tales of the Beau Monde
Letting Off Steam
Winding Her Up
Stripping Her Gears
My Renaissance Romance
Hired Help*
Outside the Box*
Princesses Gone Wild*
Open House
Pure Sin*
Knights Elemental
The Mating Place*
My Lady Vampire
Perfect Whore
And many more…
*~~*~~*
Several of the above titles were co-written with friend and writing partner S.L. Carpenter. Together, they have a dozen or so books available, each featuring their trademark touches of humor and heat. Their most recent release is a brand new stand-alone story titled So Into You.
This, and a whole bunch of Sahara Kelly’s other books, can be found online for your eReader at your favorite vendor. Quite a few are also in print. No excuses, people. You can add her stories to your bookshelves physically or digitally. Go get ‘em.
*~~*~~*
Sahara would like to mention that she’s recently initiated a new collaboration with her writing partner, S.L. Carpenter. They have blended another of their shared passions — art — and formed an online graphics business focusing on the complicated world of writers. If you’re interested in seeing what they get up to when they’re not writing something twistedly hot and sexy, they’d like to invite you to come visit their business at the link below and check out some of the amazing cover art currently being created by S.L. Carpenter. They’re certainly never bored…
P and N Graphics, LLC
Happy Reading…