Secrets 03 - Shattered Secrets

by Lana Williams

  “What would be the cost to install these on all our ships?” asked one lord.

  Ashbury turned to stare at Weston and Lucas in disbelief. “He can’t be serious.”

  “What about the people on the ships that are struck?” another lord asked. “What will happen to them?”

  “That depends on the velocity of the beam,” the professor explained casually as though they discussed the weather rather than people’s lives. “The better the source that allows the waves to self-propagate, the stronger the beam and the more control the user would have over it.”

  “Can either of you see anything?” Weston asked.

  Lucas shook his head. The auras were gray as though even fate wasn’t certain how this day might end for these men.

  “Nor I,” Ashbury said. “Nothing but murkiness.”

  “Wait. The prime minister…” Lucas stared at the older man, noting his darkening aura. “His life is in danger.”

  Gladstone raised his hand, bringing the voices to a murmur. “I must protest.”

  Tysdale spun to stare at him. “Why?”

  The prime minster looked about the room, his gaze resting on several of the lords. Some met his look while others glanced away. “A weapon of this magnitude would surely be a terrible mistake. If it were to fall into the wrong hands, we might be the ones to pay the price.”

  “I disagree,” Tysdale argued. “This is exactly what we need to prevent war. A weapon like this will be feared by all. No one will dare challenge England.”

  Several lords called out their agreement while others shook their heads, obviously siding with the prime minister.

  Gladstone lifted his hand again, quieting the men. “This carries far too much risk. We must think of what’s best for the people of England.”

  “That is exactly who we’re thinking of. Perhaps an additional demonstration will help you better understand,” Tysdale said and raised his brows as though asking their opinion.

  “Yes, let us see more,” one lord said as another disagreed vehemently. Tysdale ignored the naysayers as he turned to the professor.

  Professor Grisby turned several knobs on his switch box then glanced at Tysdale who gave a nod of approval. Both men stared at Gladstone. The prime minister gripped the arms of his chair as though suddenly worried.

  The professor shifted the lever on the box and the devices whirred back into action. The sparking arcs visible in each vacuum tube bounced about, then connected between each other, linking the devices.

  The arcs followed the wires from the devices, traveling down to the floor before surrounding the chair in which the prime minister sat. The old man’s eyes widened in horror.

  Lucas stepped forward, intending to stop this madness. But the gun in his back forced him to stop in his tracks.

  “None of ye move,” Simmons warned. “If I give Ingrid the sign, she’ll shoot the lady.”

  Unable to interfere, Lucas could only watch as the prime minister stiffened, then trembled repeatedly as electrical currents struck him.

  “Good God.” Ashbury turned away only to look back again.

  At last the professor slowed the currents, quieting the devices. Gladstone’s head dipped forward as though he was unconscious.

  “Now you can see what might happen to those who dare to oppose us,” Tysdale said with a triumphant smile.

  The room fell silent as all stared at the prime minister.

  “Would anyone else like a personal demonstration?” Tysdale asked.

  “How do we stop this?” Lucas looked to Moira, her aura still dark as she stared in disbelief at Gladstone. He now knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that a life without her wasn’t worth living. She held his heart, and he would do anything in his power to have the chance to tell her how much he loved her.

  There had to be some way to save her and stop the professor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Moira stared at the old man in the chair, horrified by what she’d just witnessed. Such a weapon would surely be the end of England’s glory. In its place would be a reign of terror. She met Lucas’s gaze for a moment, wondering what he was thinking. Somehow, they had to stop this madness, regardless of the danger to themselves.

  A glance over her shoulder showed that Ingrid hadn’t moved; she still held the pistol aimed at Moira. From this short distance, there was no chance of her missing. The smug expression told Moira she would enjoy pulling the trigger.

  Moira knew Lucas, Weston and Ashbury hadn’t taken action because they feared for her safety. She realized Lucas must see death in her aura and swallowed hard at the thought.

  While she had no idea how the professor could be stopped and the devices destroyed, she could at least stop Simmons and Ingrid from using her to control Lucas.

  She stared long and hard at her husband, hoping he’d look at her again so she could give him a sign that she was taking action.

  As though feeling the weight of her gaze, he glanced at her. But it took only a moment for her to realize he wasn’t truly looking at her, but at her aura. He started to turn away, and she wanted nothing more than to jump up to gain his attention.

  Forget the aura, she wanted to scream. Look at me.

  By some miracle he did. He looked directly into her eyes. With the intensity of her expression, she tried to convey what she was about to do. Then she drew her hand to the front of her body where Ingrid couldn’t see it, formed a fist then cast a glance behind her. Hopefully that would tell Lucas of her intent.

  He seemed to receive her message and shook his head, clearly disagreeing with her plan. But she had to do something. She could no longer sit here and watch this terrible demonstration. If she could distract Ingrid, even momentarily, he’d be free to disarm Simmons and get to the professor.

  She winked at him, the only way she could think to tell him once more that she loved him. Before he could respond, she bolted up and spun at the same time, keeping her fist clenched, thumb out, as Lucas had taught her when they were young.

  The maid was surprised by her movement and stood. But she was slower than Moira by a few seconds. Moira blocked the pistol with her arm and shoved it away. She caught the underside of the woman’s jaw with her fist, Ingrid’s head snapping back.

  Moira gasped at the pain that shot up her arm from the impact. But she kept moving, focusing on the weapon, desperation giving her strength. The maid’s grip on the gun had loosened, allowing Moira to wrench it from her grasp. The weapon felt heavy in Moira’s hand. She had no idea how to use it. But Ingrid didn’t know that.

  The maid held a hand to her jaw. “You struck me.” Then her eyes widened with fear as Moira pointed the pistol at her.

  Moira straightened with pride. “Yes, I did.” She placed her finger on the trigger. At least she hoped it was the trigger. She didn’t want to glance down to check and give away her inexperience.

  Apparently she was holding it properly as the maid eased back, hands up. “No need to shoot me.”

  “I will be the judge of that.”

  *

  Lucas’s heart had caught in his throat as he watched Moira spin to strike the maid. But as she did so, he knew this was his chance. Her attempt to free herself couldn’t be in vain. There was no time to notify Ashbury and Weston of his plan. Instead, he turned and drove his elbow into Simmons’ stomach then caught the hand that held the gun and forced it up, out of harm’s way.

  Ashbury plowed his fist into Simmons’ face. The man flailed backward at the impact, striking his head on the door frame and sliding into a heap onto the floor, the gun clattering to the ground alongside him.

  Relief filled Lucas as he saw Moira now holding the pistol at the maid. Moira’s bright aura made his knees weak. He retrieved Simmons’ gun and handed it to Ashbury. “Well done.”

  Ashbury glanced at Moira and shook his head. “Your wife is amazing.”

  “Here now,” one of the lords called out. “What’s going on?”

  “No time to celebrate quite yet,�
�� Weston said, ignoring the lord.

  Lucas saw the three guards that had unveiled the devices coming toward them. “This brings back a memory or two from our university days,” Lucas muttered.

  “I’ve got the tall one,” Ashbury said.

  “I’ll take the thin one,” Weston said as he strode forward.

  Lucas sighed. That left him with the biggest one. He followed Weston into the fray, making sure he struck the big guard first before he could hit Lucas. The man seemed to have a jaw made of metal, for Lucas’s punch did little damage. He tried again, driving his fist into the man’s paunch. That bent the man over. Lucas raised both arms and struck him in the back with his elbows.

  Roaring like a lion, the man charged, still bent over, and plowed into Lucas. Lucas took several steps back, trying not to lose his balance. His back hit the wall, stealing the breath from his lungs. Before the man could straighten, Lucas drove his knee into his face then clenched his hands together and struck him on the back of his head. The man groaned and fell to his knees. The other two guards were sprawled on the floor nearby.

  “Enough.” Tysdale’s voice penetrated the rising tide of voices, quieting the room.

  Professor Grisby stared at Lucas, Weston and Ashbury in turn, shaking his head in disgust. “I expected so much more out of you.”

  “Not as much as we expected from you,” Lucas countered. Moira still had the pistol aimed at the maid. With a glance at the guard to make certain he remained on the ground, Lucas stepped forward. “Perhaps you’d care to explain to your audience that you tested the devices on children and adults. Share with them how many burnt bodies you dumped in the Thames.”

  A collective gasp sounded from the lords.

  “Is this true?” asked the man who’d been attempting to revive Gladstone. “Is this some sort of killing machine?”

  “Yes,” Tysdale said. “That’s what any weapon is designed to do—to kill. To destroy your enemy. You are a man of the world, Smithson. Surely you already know that.”

  “My devices offer the advantage of causing damage on a large scale.” The professor still held the switch in his hand.

  “Murdering innocent people in order to create such a weapon shouldn’t be necessary,” Lucas said as he, Weston and Ashbury drew nearer. Somehow they needed to disconnect the devices or remove the switch from the professor’s grasp. Grisby was obviously mad.

  “A weapon like this is far too dangerous,” Weston said as he, too, eased forward. “In the wrong hands, it could be devastating.”

  “Stay back,” the professor ordered. “I won’t hesitate to turn it on again. The prime minister can’t take another dose.”

  “I must ask,” Weston said, his tone conversational, “how you became convinced that electromagnetism should be used to kill people instead of heal them. After all, that was what your original research focused on.”

  Lucas realized Weston was attempting to distract him. Grisby had always enjoyed speaking of the research behind his work. Sharing a look with Ashbury, hoping he was thinking the same thing, Lucas shifted toward the device nearest him. Ashbury did the same.

  Several of the men in the audience now stood, watching the scene carefully.

  “I fear my original attempts were flawed,” the professor said. “I could never design a way to control the current consistently. I needed the meteorite you had, but even that one wouldn’t be enough.”

  “Is that why you attempted to get the rhodite from Brazil?” Ashbury asked.

  “Yes.” The professor chuckled nervously, obviously surprised at Ashbury’s question. “I hadn’t realized you were following my movements quite so closely.”

  “Your threats had Adolphus Vandimer quite concerned. He was very distraught over losing the ship that carried your shipment of rhodite,” Ashbury responded.

  “The rhodite did not go down with the ship,” Lucas countered, hoping his announcement would distract the professor further. “I have it.” Lucas eased closer to the device, looking up at it as though simply curious as to how it was built. He reached out to touch the glass cylinder, wondering whether he could break it and if that would do any good. “How do these differ from the original devices?”

  As the professor spoke, Lucas examined it, trying to see if he could either disconnect the wires or remove the power source from the blasted thing. He glanced toward Ashbury to see if he had any ideas. Based on the frown on his face, he was at a loss as well.

  “All of this is fascinating,” Tysdale said. “But let us not lose focus from the purpose of our meeting. As members of the science and technology committee, it is our responsibility to investigate every avenue presented to us.”

  A lord sitting in the middle of the group stood. “I, for one, do not agree with your statements, Tysdale. I am not in favor of this kind of weapon and have no intention of voting for it.”

  Another man rose. “I will not vote for it either.”

  Tysdale grew frantic as he glanced about the room, obviously realizing he’d lost control of both the meeting and the vote.

  Gladstone’s aura darkened by the moment. The man could not take another jolt. Lucas might not know how to disconnect the devices, but surely he could disconnect the prime minister’s chair.

  As Tysdale sputtered arguments for his plan to several of the lords, Lucas rushed toward the prime minister. The wires attached to the chair were still live. He could hear the sizzle when he leaned close. He removed his coat and wrapped it around his hands then tore away the wires from the chair.

  Immediately the prime minister’s aura lightened.

  “Berkmond, no,” the professor cried out. He pushed the lever on the switch box back and forth, the box sparking as he did so.

  Electricity filled the air, the whirr from the devices deafening, arcs of light shooting all about the room. Several lords fled, their cries of alarm adding to the confusion and panic.

  Lucas could only guess that he’d broken the circle of the current, shorting it out when he’d pulled the wires from the chair. Sparks flew from the ends of the wires he’d freed. Lucas pushed them farther away, not wanting them to hurt anyone, especially the prime minister.

  A snap filled the air when two of the wires crossed.

  The professor cried out, his body stiffening as the current from the box shot through him. Lucas, Weston, and Ashbury could only watch in horror as their former mentor writhed about until he at last fell to the floor, the switch falling from his hands and breaking the current again. The whirring noise slowed to a halt, the electricity leaving a lingering sizzle in the air. Worst of all was the terrible smell of burning flesh.

  Lucas rushed forward but he feared it was too late. The wig and sideburns the professor had worn seemed to have embedded in his face. His body quivered as though still full of electricity, making Lucas hesitate to touch him.

  “Is he dead?” Ashbury asked with Weston at his side.

  Lucas at last pressed a hand to the man’s chest, feeling for his heartbeat. “I don’t feel anything.”

  “He tricked us once before. This time we’ll insist the doctor check twice,” Weston said.

  “He’s not going anywhere on his own, that much I know.” Lucas turned to see Moira moving toward him, still holding the gun at the maid.

  Weston hurried to help her, taking the weapon from her. He ordered the maid to stand by where the guards and Simmons were slumped on the floor then requested one of the lords to send for the police and a doctor.

  “I never meant to hurt anyone,” Tysdale shouted. He pointed at the professor’s body. “This was all his idea.”

  “We are all witnesses to your acts, Tysdale,” one of the lords responded. “I, for one, will not allow you to get away with this.” More lords joined his side as they surrounded Tysdale.

  Ashbury squeezed Moira’s shoulder. “Well done. I’ll check on the prime minister.” He joined several men who were assisting Gladstone.

  Lucas stared at Moira and her bright aura, his heart th
undering in his chest, so grateful she was alive. He gathered her into his arms and held her tight. “Moira,” he whispered, hoping she could understand half of what he was feeling.

  She returned his embrace for a long moment then pulled back to look into his eyes. “Oh, Lucas. I’m so sorry. I never meant to jeopardize your plans to capture the professor. I thought I was helping when I followed the maid.”

  “The fault lies with me. If I would’ve told you what was happening all along, you wouldn’t have been in danger. I promise, no more secrets.”

  “I’m so glad you’re all right.” She glanced toward the professor’s body, but Lucas drew her away.

  “Not nearly as pleased as I am that you’re safe.” He paused a short distance away to pull her into his arms again. “Moira, I love you so very much.”

  Tears filled her eyes for the first time. How could it be that his declaration would cause that when all the events of this day had not? His heart stuttered at the thought. She truly did love him.

  As though she heard his thoughts, she said, “I love you, Lucas. Always.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, his heart overflowing with emotion. “I know I have no right to ask you this after everything I’ve put you through, but I want our marriage to be a true one. Where we spend the rest of our lives together.”

  “Oh, Lucas. Are you certain?”

  “I’m the one who should ask that question. I don’t think you truly understand how damaged—”

  Moira placed her finger on his lips. “You are perfect as you are. This ability you have must be so difficult to live with. I only hope that I can aid you so you can live a happy life.”

  He smiled. “Moira, you are a gift beyond measure. You’ve already given me more happiness than I believed possible. Thank you.”

  She lifted up on her toes to kiss him. The passion in that kiss made him feel as though he were the luckiest man on earth.

  “Let us see to things here, then go home and celebrate.”