The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One

by V. J. Timlin

  “One, we go back now, so I can let my boss and friends know that I’m away from the city for a while, visit my mother’s grave, and get my katana. Oh, and the door needs fixing.” Nat opened his mouth to protest, but Anouk lifted her index finger to cut him off. “It will cause me more problems later if I don’t inform them. My friends will come to my house to check on me, they’ll see someone has broken in and they will call the police. That will cause a massive search and unnecessary worries. Besides, popping back won’t take long.”

  Nat sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Alright. I assume Stalo has reached the city by now and gone into hiding, so it doesn’t change the situation much. What is the second condition?”

  “That when Stalo is caught, you’ll take me back for good.”

  “Of course.” Nat flashed a smile. “I wouldn’t keep you here against your will.”

  “Okay then. Let’s get back to my house, then come back to sort out this Stalo business.” Anouk pushed herself up.

  “As you wish, my lady,” Nat replied and jumped up.

  Anouk snorted.

  “Put your arms around me and close your eyes,” Nat instructed. “By the way, what is your katana?”

  “It’s a Japanese sword.”

  “Do you know how to use a sword?” Nat sounded surprised.

  “Yes, some.”

  Nat whistled.

  “Why are men always so incredulous when a woman can use weapons?” Anouk crossed her arms, glaring at him.

  “Ulda women know how to use weapons, but you look more an Anglean, so I was jumping to conclusions. My apologises. Your fighting skills could be of great assistance.”

  “Who or what are Ulda and Anglean?”

  “Ulda are the native people of Anglea while Angleans are conquerors and now in the majority. I will explain it all later because now we are ready to take-off… hold tight.”

  Anouk wrapped her arms around Nat and closed her eyes. A few seconds later the same strong pull jerked her forward, pressing her tighter against Nat, and gusts of wind beat against her back. She wished she could open her eyes to check what was happening, but the flashing lights were too bright and she didn’t want to risk another night disgorging, so instead she pressed her eyelids tighter shut.

  * * *

  Her home was in chaos—the door to the staircase hung wide open, a bullet hole had pierced the wall, and the small side table and picture had toppled over. Smaller bits and bobs of Anouk’s life lay scattered on the floor. It was like returning to the scene of a crime… which it actually was. Anouk shuddered. Would she ever feel safe in her home again?

  Anouk lifted the table and knelt to gather up her knickknacks. Tears burned her eyes. It had been a horrible morning.

  The door clicked shut behind her. She started up, half expecting Stalo to be back. It was Nat, scanning her hall as if seeing it for the first time.

  She gripped the edge of the table in sheer relief. “Door wasn’t broken?”

  Nat shook his head. “It was slightly ajar when I kicked it in.”

  Anouk nodded. At least she didn’t have to explain what had happened to the caretaker. The bullet hole, though, would have to wait until she came back, but she could putty it herself.

  She made a quick phone call to her boss and Alison saying that when she recovered, she had to travel away from London for a couple of weeks for an urgent family matter.

  “It’s my father. He just contacted me and he needs my help in Amsterdam. I promised to go.” Anouk frowned. She hated lying.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Alison said. “Is he ill?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course, you must go. He must feel guilty leaving you and wants to make amends.”

  “Yes, I guess.” Anouk suppressed a snort. Her father had had nothing to do with her and her mother after he had left when she’d been five years old. The only explanation her mother gave was her daddy was a typical sailor. Later Anouk learned her father had another family. “I don’t know how long I’ll be in Amsterdam, but a couple of weeks at least.”

  After a few motherly comments from Alison about family coming first but that Anouk should take time for herself as well, Anouk hung up and turned to Nat. “That was awkward.”

  Nat gave a nonchalant shrug. “If it’s any consolation, telling the truth would only bring you more trouble.”

  “Well, I sure hope it’s worth it.” She turned the mobile off and threw it on the bed. “I don’t suppose I have time for a quick shower? I mean, since I’m coming with you.”

  Nat gave her a flat look.

  “I’ll be quick. I really need a shower after being so ill all night.”

  Nat narrowed his eyes. “Alright, but I’ll come to get you if it takes too long, no matter whether you are naked or not.”

  “You should take care to respect people’s privacy. Besides, I’ll be super-fast.” Anouk ran to the bathroom.

  The stream of warm water caressed her aching body, and she wanted to stay in the shower longer, but she didn’t dare. Nat’s threat had been convincing enough that she didn’t want to test whether he would see it through to fruition. She slipped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around herself, and headed back to the bedroom. Nat stood in the hall leaning against the wall, his face unreadable.

  “I’ll just change clothes, grab a quick bite, and then we’ll pop to the cemetery and get back to Anglea,” she said over her shoulder.

  Nat grunted. Anouk wondered what he was thinking, seeing her wearing only a towel. Embarrassed, enjoy the sight or just ignore her? She glanced at him when she closed the bedroom door. Nat was staring at the Gadget.

  Embarrassed or ignoring.

  At least he was more of a gentleman than his friend. The memory of Stalo nibbling her earlobe made her insides flip in mutual disgust and terror. She hurried to her wardrobe. Thinking of what they were proposing turned her stomach. What was she getting herself into? She took a deep breath. Nothing good, she was sure of it but something she was compelled to do.

  She snatched her sword bag from the closet and headed to the hall. “I’ll just grab the katana and I’m ready.”

  In the living room, she reached for the weapon that hung on the wall.

  “Ah,” Nat said behind her.

  “Yeah.” Anouk took the sword down and unsheathed it. She always kept the edge honed.

  “May I?” Nat turned his palms up.

  “Sure.” Anouk handed the sword hilt first.

  Nat examined the katana, testing its balance and the blade. Admiration shone in his eyes. “This is an amazing weapon.”

  “Thanks.” Anouk grinned. “Japanese swords are known as some of the best in this world.”

  “I bet sword smiths in Anglea would be interested in seeing it.”

  Anouk sheathed the katana, slipped it in the black carrying bag and tossed it on her shoulder.

  Five minutes later Anouk and Nat walked to the cemetery. They passed the sarcophagus on their way to her mother’s grave. The cover was back on.

  “How did you manage to lift the cover back?” Anouk waved her hand to the stone coffin. “I take it Stalo didn’t give you a hand?”

  “As a matter of fact, it wasn’t me.”

  “Well, someone did.” Anouk rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Maybe the skeletal chap in the box got chilly and lifted it back. It doesn’t matter. It’s back on and that’s important. I don’t want to see headlines screaming: A Grave Vandalised in Hanwell cemetery.”

  Nat gave her a curious look, but said nothing.

  “My mother’s grave is over here.” Anouk turned onto a path leading to the right. She walked to the grave and kissed the headstone. “Hi Mum. I came to say goodbye. I must go away for a while, but I’ll come back.” She kissed the stone again. “I love you, Mum.” Tears came to her eyes.

  “I promise to take care of your daughter, Mrs Herring, and bring her back safely” Nat took off his hat and bowed to the grave.

  The gesture warmed Anouk. She wiped
the tears away and smiled at Nat. “Okay, let’s get back and find this nefarious friend of yours.”

  “He’s not my friend,” Nat growled.

  Chapter 4

  When the light faded and Anouk opened her eyes, they stood at the edge of the city. The undulating green hills behind them rose in stark contrast to the rows of low grey stone buildings in front of them. The terraced houses huddled together like little birds on a telegraph wire on a cold winter day and appeared just as miserable. Sooty smoke rose from the chimneys and hung above the rooftops like a dark afterthought.

  Anouk gaped at a passing carriage. Behind the black box-like cabin was a boiler, firebox and smokestack that belched grey smoke skyward. A driver sat in front, steering the vehicle, a solemn expression on his face. He lifted his cap and bowed his head to Anouk before speeding away.

  “Wow… That doesn’t look safe,” she muttered.

  Nat hadn’t said what kind of world he was from, not that it had crossed her mind to ask. The whole morning was a big chaotic blur in her mind, seeing steam vehicles passing and airships flying above her head did little to clear her confusion. Her eyes transmitted all they captured into her brain, but its processing system hiccupped. Hysterical laughter bubbled inside her, like champagne, straining against the cork. She took several deep breaths to get her rebelling mind under control and turned her attention to Nat.

  Nat stared down at a brass box in his hand. Pointers in the gauges swung side to side in a frantic motion. He turned in a slow circle and pointed the box in different directions while he kept a keen eye on the dial.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a Sniffer,” Nat said, without taking his eyes off it.

  Anouk’s eyebrows shot up. “A Sniffer?”

  “Yes, a Sniffer. Every convict has two or more tiny tracking devices called The Beacon sewn into their overalls—the most dangerous criminals have one under their skin. The Sniffer smells it, so to speak.”

  “Like a hunting dog? That, er, sounds handy.”

  “Usually, it is.” Nat frowned. “But I’m not getting a reading. He must have got rid of his, even the one under his skin. On the other hand, the Sniffer isn’t reliable in cities; there are too many distracting elements that confuse the instrument.”

  “Do you think he’s still in the city?”

  “Sure. He’s got to find a doctor to take that slug out of him.” He tucked the Sniffer back into his pocket. “Looks like we’re doing this the old-fashioned way.”

  “Which is?”

  “Asking around whether anyone has seen him.” Nat jerked his head towards the city. “Let’s go.”

  They started to walk up the street. At close range, the houses turned out to be in an even more miserable condition from how they first looked at a distance. Many lacked a window and more than a few doors were hanging from their hinges or were missing all together. People and vehicles, though, navigated through the lane with the same routine only locals knew—blind to the surroundings and focused on reaching their destination.

  A question burned in Anouk’s mind, drawing her eyes from the scene in front of her to Nat’s trench coat pocket. “Is it because of that box you found Stalo when he broke into my house?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t easy.” Nat glanced at her, his expression wary. “Otherwise, I might have been able to stop him.”

  Anouk swallowed. The thought of what might have happened if the instrument had been too overwhelmed to ‘smell’ Stalo cause a cold shiver to run down her spine. She would be lying on her floor, her neck broken, or a bullet hole in her head.

  She blew out slowly. Yet, she was still alive, and she hadn’t thanked Nat.

  “But you did, and I do appreciate it… a lot.”

  Nat grunted.

  They continued their journey in silence. The traffic grew busier the deeper into the city they walked. They turned onto a main thoroughfare, and Anouk’s jaw dropped. Horse carriages, steam-powered vehicles, bicycles that looked nothing like the sleek-lined race or mountain bikes she often saw weaving between London’s busy traffic all rattled down the cobblestoned street. Women were wearing long corseted dresses, some with bustles, some with crinolines. And everyone wore hats. Men wore dark suits and various shapes of headgear—top hats, caps and bowlers. The sight was a spitting image of late Victorian England. Did she also travel back in time and not just to another planet?

  The Law of Infinite Probability came to mind. According to the theory, everything was possible, however improbable. If you ran enough loads of clothes through a dryer, one day they should come out neatly folded. Well, this had to be the day… sort of. Her mind hiccupped one more time and surrendered. Yes, she needed to keep her mind open, and it would be easier. This was like visiting another country that was just a teeny-weeny bit different from hers. She’d be fine.

  Two women looked at Anouk and Nat as they passed by. One of the ladies leaned towards her companion and whispered, pointing her finger up and down at Anouk. Turning away, her cheeks burning, Anouk realised they were not the only ones—a labourer across the street whistled and winked.

  “I think I stand out a bit.”

  “Yes, you do. I believe we need to get you more appropriate clothing.”

  “Okay, but I will not wear any of those dresses.”

  “We’ll find you a suit. I know just the place.”

  “Do women here wear trousers?”

  “Some do. Usually they’re bounty hunters or labourers.”

  “Alright, but a fine lady wouldn’t wear such a thing?” Anouk asked. Not that she desired to be a fine lady if it meant she had to wear a skirt that looked more suited to be a miniature diving bell or made her look like a walking chair. However, she was curious to know if the dress code was the same as in nineteenth century Britain.

  “No.”

  Ah, so it was.

  They continued up the street and Anouk’s uneasiness grew by the minute. People were stopping, talking and pointing in her direction. She didn’t like the scandalised expressions on their faces.

  “Is the shop far? I mean, I think one lady just fainted after she saw me.”

  “It’s not far.” Nat gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “Good.” She should stop paying attention to the ogling and gaping people. Lifting her chin, she tried to muster some confidence and act as if she was walking down her home street, but it did little to alleviate her nervousness. She needed a better distraction. “So, when you visit other planets, do you get visitors back? I mean, are there other, er, people out there who have Gadgets of their own?” Anouk waved her hand skyward.

  “So far, no.”

  Anouk whistled. “So you’re the only one with the technology?”

  “As far as we know.”

  “And I would be the first one to visit Anglea?”

  Nat stopped and turned to face Anouk. “No, there have been a few others that I have heard of. The bottom line is that it’s not forbidden to bring people from other places, if they are willing to come, but it’s not encouraged either. So, we’d better keep your origin to ourselves. There are some prejudices against the Gadgets and the travels they permit.”

  “Understood.” Anouk swallowed. Prejudices never sounded good. “Are you sure I don’t look alien to these people?”

  “Only your clothes.” Nat resumed walking. “The owner of the shop, where we are getting you a new suit, is a good friend of mine. You can trust her.”

  Anouk nodded in acknowledgement, although she wasn’t going to take Nat’s word on the matter regarding his friend’s trustworthiness. It paid to be cautious. Granted he had saved her life, nevertheless, she didn’t know him. Or this new world of his.

  “Ah, here we are.”

  Nat stopped in front of a shop that reminded Anouk of a shady general establishment. A weathered sign over the door had Amanda’s Emporium written on it with decorative letters which proclaimed the luxury that waited buyers behind the rustic door. Anouk looked at the window; sun-b
leached packages of God-knows-what, jars, tools, and some faded, dull-coloured clothes were stacked on display. Anouk didn’t feel inspired.

  “As I said, she sells suits as well.” Nat winked and pushed the door open.

  Anouk groaned. Based on the clothes in the window, she had bad feelings about these so-called suits Nat’s friend would have in stock.

  Sweet aromatic scents mixed with stuffy air hit Anouk’s nose when she followed him into the shop. The place was crammed with tabletops and shelves full of products.

  A woman came out of the backroom and the corner of her lips crooked up.

  “Well, if my failing eyes are not deceiving me, it’s Nat Walla himself. Haven’t seen you for some time.” Her blue eyes sparkled when she approached Nat, and beaming, she threw her arms around him.

  He returned the hug. “It’s been too long, I agree.” He waved his hand towards Anouk. “Amanda, this is Miss Herring. She needs new clothes.”

  Amanda turned to Anouk. She was about five inches shorter than Anouk’s five foot seven. A dark-blue corseted dress highlighted her curviness, and her dark curly hair was tied up in a bun. A few grey streaks lined her temples and fine laughter lines around her eyes gave her an air of joviality.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Herring.” As she looked Anouk up and down, one of her eyebrows raised. “Oh, yes. You need more clothes.”

  Anouk blushed. So that’s why people were staring and pointing at her. Not only were her clothes different in their eyes, she was almost naked with her skin-tight leggings and low-cut neckline. Why hadn’t Nat said anything?

  Amanda took Anouk’s arm and guided her to the backroom. “Let’s find you something decent to wear.”

  “I don’t want a dress,” Anouk hurried to say. As much as one looked nice on Amanda, a long-corseted skirt on her would make keeping up with Nat more awkward than it already was. How strict was the dress code and would Amanda insist she follow it?

  “No dress. Right.” Amanda nodded, her brows creased together and her fingers rubbed her chin. “Well, since you accompany Nat, I know just the outfit for you.”

  A realisation hit Anouk like a hammer. “I don’t have any money to pay for the clothes.”