The Gadgeteer Box Set

by Gin Hollan

  Someone coughed, startling her. Turning, she frowned at Hicks.

  "Remind me why you have a key to my home and workshop," she said to the tall, dark-haired, well-suited man.

  Hicks had doffed his expensive hat, and stood smiling with his hands in his overcoat pockets. He laughed and shrugged at her reaction.

  "Something to do with having someone make sure you survive this workshop, I’d guess."

  "Is that what brings you here today?" she asked. “A casual how-do-you-do?” She

  He paused as their eyes met then looked away, clearing his throat. "I was in the area."

  "I’ve got work." She shook a finger at him. They'd been friends since childhood, but she'd been changed by her short marriage to someone else. Now that he was dead, she was figuring out the rest of her life. This was part of the process. Either way, she wasn't taking Hick's bait. "Whatever you’re after, I’m busy."

  "You found the note?"

  “Oh, I suppose Jerome told you he’d still pass me the message even though the others were backing out.”

  “He likes to talk.” He coughed and she wondered if he was starting to come down with something. “I thought you could use an assist, considering the target is twice your body weight, and my schedule is a little thin right now.” Sam looked like he wanted to say more, but made himself stop.

  Arabeth walked over to Marble and gently rubbed the creature’s head. "You should have warned me he was here," she pretended to whisper.

  "Nah, she likes me. She’d never fink." He shrugged.

  "Or you're here too often." She pointed to the door. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Shouldn’t you be out arresting nasty people to arrest and so forth?" Her plan wouldn't work with Hicks in tow.

  "I am completely at your disposal," he said as he chuckled. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist one last capture before the deadline.”

  She stared at him a moment. He might be useful if she needed a plan B. But she shook her head. No distractions.

  “Fine, but don’t be surprised if I don’t need the help.” She pushed the door open. Outside, Arabeth turned and headed for the textile district, hoping Hicks would head off in a different direction. He didn’t.

  "And stay out of sight. One look at you and he’ll run, forcing me to tranquilize him in front of God and the universe." If he was with his family, she’d try to get him away from them. She had no intention of scarring children, but they should know he was an escaped felon. His being hunted shouldn't come as a surprise, but it would still seem unfair. Then again, the parents had probably lied to them.

  The diner was a rough little place sitting between a low-end cobbler and a thrifty bakeshop. It reminded her of a pub that became too well known for its cooked snacks and had to shift the menu to support demand. Who would bring children into that sort of place? Her opinion of her target was already low, but he really needed a perspective check.

  "Don't come inside." She looked at Hicks.

  His left cheek twitched. "Don't do anything I'll have to arrest you for."

  "Yes, Detective.” She sighed. Sanders wouldn't recognize her as a threat, but Sam had trouble with disguises and paths that were less than direct. He was patient. That wasn’t his problem. He was blunt, to the point, and when he wasn’t busy being shy, he was well spoken.

  Pausing at the door, she knew she should have dressed more appropriate to the moment. A woman in trousers would be peculiar in any public setting. She'd be recognized either way, she sighed. Criminals talked, informing one another about credible threats. She’d become one of those in the past few months.

  Inside, the room was long and narrow, with booths along one wall and a bar counter along the other. Small. Comfortable. Brass fittings and light-coloured wood. No wallpaper. That got Arabeth's approval. The green arsenic-based dye in popular wallpapers had killed a lot of people before the news went wide. The woman behind the counter nodded to her and ignored her fox.

  Most of the seats were full. She spotted one place open at the serving counter. Sitting, she slid a coin to the server. The woman took it and turned to get a glass, surreptitiously pouring grape juice. This wasn’t the kind of place you went to for a shot of grape juice, but they knew her.

  Sipping, Arabeth turned to see if Sanders was around. Not spotting him in the open areas, she determined he was likely in the "gentlemen only" back area, where the heavy drinking and less savoury activities went on.

  That didn't mesh with what her informant had said, though - he was supposed to come out of hiding long enough to sneak a meeting with his family before leaving for parts unknown.

  She pulled out a picture to double-check her memory of him. The photo was black and white, and a bit out of focus, but it did well enough. What if he wore a disguise? She ought to have asked for an article of bedding from his prison cell. Marble was a decent tracker.

  A nervous, forced laugh from a darkened corner rang out over the room, drawing the attention of more than just Arabeth.

  Slipping to her feet, she moved toward the table it came from. Her target was there, but not with a wife and kids. Arabeth's source wasn't usually this sloppy. And it changed the odds. Still, she wanted this bounty. He was likely buying illegal passage out of the city.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted others changing seats, presumably to get closer. How many people had her informant sold that information to? Maybe the woman had gotten greedy or received the information second-hand as well. Either way, she wouldn't be getting Arabeth's money again.

  Arabeth had to move fast to beat them to him. A small, furry blur zipped forward ahead of her and seconds later the man in the corner booth jumped up out of his seat. A couple seconds after that, the man was bolting for the exit through the gentlemen’s back area.

  Arabeth ran after him, one of her gloved hands shielding her eyes as she went into the “men only” area. She lowered it. It was far too dim in here to worry about being recognized, and nothing seedy happened in this part. She needed to see which of the two exits her target went out. Someone ran into her, causing her to shuffle forward.

  "He's getting away," a man's voice growled. "Get out of my way."

  She tripped him as he pushed forward. She noted a strange, small red and orange badge on his jacket sleeve above the elbow as he fell, then started after her quarry, pleased with the chaos that surrounded him. He'd landed on a pair of half-dressed twins known as Mary and Tess. They immediately took hold of him, laughing. He'd need a minute to disentangle himself. She chuckled.

  As she stepped out, she saw her target as he disappeared around a corner. He was quick, but Marble was quicker.

  "Follow him, Marble," she said, pointing.

  As the fox ran off, Arabeth pulled out a small brown leather box and flipped its top half open, revealing a tiny digital display grid. Marble's collar would tell Arabeth exactly where she went, with reasonable accuracy. Following with a modicum of haste, Arabeth kept one eye on her device and the other on where she was going.

  The little dot on her display paused, then started moving back toward her. Soon she saw Sanders hurrying back her way. He looked up and seemed relieved. Arabeth dropped the tracker back into her bag and pulled out one of her wrist traps, preparing to snap it on him as he went by. He stopped and waved her forward, his eyes wide.

  "Look, I know you'll throw one of your gadgets to catch me." He glanced at Marble. "You and that little demon won't rest, I know. So let's just do this." He held his arms out, wrists together. His eyes were a little too wide for Arabeth to second-guess this kind of opportunity. She snapped a wrist restraint on him and turned to lead him back to the police precinct. Why choose re-capture after the trouble he’d gone through to see his family again, to get away from justice?

  A thundering, clunking hammer of steps came down the road adjacent to them and Arabeth couldn’t help staring.

  "There's the reason," she gasped, staring at a large automaton in the distance. It had to stand a full storey tall
as it shambled along, across the gap between the buildings.

  A sound rose up from its direction that Arabeth didn't recognize. It seemed electronic, but what technology could do that? Radio broadcasting wasn't exactly a new invention, but it wasn’t all that portable.

  Sanders had thought he'd be safer in custody. Probably true, but who would be truly safe from that monolith?

  “Well, we’ll take a few back streets,” she said. She looked at Marble, who stood with all four legs stiff, her head cocked to one side. “Marble, let’s go.” When she didn’t move, Arabeth reached down. The fox dodged her and ran towards the automaton instead.

  "Marble, no! Get back here," she yelled after her.

  Marble shook her head and kept going.

  Stopping, Arabeth thought about setting Sanders free and chasing Marble. There were bigger things going on than jail jumpers.

  "What were you arrested for?" She'd actually forgotten.

  "Mugging the elderly, double-jay-walking, dancing with one pant leg up. What do you care? Just take me in." In his panic, he started hurrying away, pulling Arabeth with him, toward the police station.

  Marble was intelligent and she had the tracking collar on, and the station was close enough. Arabeth could dump Sanders in the door and go after Marble before she was out of range. The fox was smarter than most of the people Arabeth knew, and that was saying something.

  She led Sanders with one hand on his cuffs, hustling toward the station. With her other hand she held the tracking box. Marble's location was straight east and heading a bit north. The fox would be out of range soon, if her speed kept up. Arabeth pulled on the restraints and soon she and Sanders were jogging.

  // Chapter 3 //

  SHE WATCHED AS SANDERS fled to his cell. Arabeth had the same cause to get running, but in the completely opposite direction. Marble's tracker showed she was waiting outside now.

  The door had opened eight times in the five minutes that Arabeth stood waiting for her capture to be credited to her. A couple people were coming to report the automaton, but the others were being dragged in by constables, arrested for various acts of violence.

  Behind the counter, a female clerk about Arabeth’s age with raven black hair and too many scowl lines for her age watched as a fresh set of handcuffs helped an officer take a quietly gibbering man to the lockup.

  "Mel, what’s going on?" Arabeth whispered to her.

  Mel shook her head.

  “Something in the drinking water, I suspect. People are starting fights with strangers and friends alike, and when they stop, they don’t know why they started.”

  Arabeth suspected that the automaton was a part of it, but watching the activity here she realized the violence was too widespread – it couldn’t be the only thing terrorizing people. Was there more than just the one?

  “It’s like people have collectively gone mad.” She leaned across the counter to whisper. “There are reports of a beast. They say it’s eight feet tall and horrifically disfigured, like it’s part machine, part bear. No one wants to go look for it, so they're all pretending to be doing other important things."

  "It's not a beast, but it certainly qualifies as a monster. A mechanical one,” Arabeth replied, half to herself. “If Hicks asks after me, please tell him we can talk later.”

  "A mechanical beast? Have you seen it?" Melanie whispered back. "They're saying people go mental if they look at it."

  Arabeth nodded, eager to leave, but the look on Melanie’s face made her pause.

  "Are they right? Is it a massive terror?"

  "It's definitely something out of a nightmare. Man-made, but that’s all I know for now." It should be simple to figure out. Dangerous, but simple. Automatons were rare, and their makers were rarer still. She wanted to see this thing up close.

  Melanie's complexion paled. "You're not going after it, are you?"

  "I'm curious."

  "Oh, I know the sound in your voice. You are, aren't you?"

  Arabeth scanned the main area of the detachment. "I want to know who built it, and these guys seem busy enough." She rapped her knuckles on the counter twice. "So, I'll talk later." She smiled as she turned to leave.

  A creation that size … especially a lumbering automaton … would definitely leave a trail. She could probably follow it blindfolded. With Marble running ahead, she was guaranteed to find it, but why take the risk?

  If there was an element of bear to it, that would explain Marble's lack of fear. She could out-manoeuvre a bear any day. Large cats and predatory birds made her more nervous.

  Why a bear, though? Were they thinking that would scare the few who reported the thing badly enough that they’d give poor information? If that was the case, it was working.

  She spotted it a few streets away from where she’d seen it last. At least eight feet tall, it had lost none of its dread-inducing stature in standing still. At this moment, it stood in the smaller town squares and was … looking around, like it was searching for something. Or someone, she realized.

  Arabeth inched closer, moving slowly enough to get a quizzical look from Marble. The fox sat and waited, unworried. The square was vacant except for the automaton. Who was controlling it? It wasn't big enough to house a person, unless they were smaller than a child.

  It had to be run by radio waves. What was the machine searching for, though? Radar wasn't specific enough to send images, so this wasn’t reconnaissance.

  She scanned the edges of the square for anyone wearing a trench coat or other bulky apparel. There was no one.

  The machine backed up and stood tall against the wall, seeming to shut down. Arabeth waited. Slowly people came out of the shops that lined the square, then raced to the nearest road or alley, escaping. None stayed. None stared.

  The automaton whirred to life and turned, walking toward the east edge of the city with what Arabeth imagined was a determined stride. As it turned, she noted fur on it’s head and back, in odd contrast to the front being clearly metal, and most likely fused on to cause confused descriptions.

  Watching for human movement in the square, she hoped the person controlling it would come out of the shadows. When no one did, she rushed after the machine.

  It lumbered, never staggering, but always with an element of clumsiness. As it left the city, it turned south. What was south? Open land and the ocean. Why go there?

  "Oh. No … no," she muttered. The controller was going to sink the machine into the ocean, destroying any chance at evidence or deconstruction. Where were the constables?

  How could she stop something that size and power alone? She had to try something. If it was electrical, she could shock it, but she’d never needed a charge that big outside her workshop. The battery for that kind of job would be massive, anyway.

  Marble continued forward as Arabeth rifled through her satchel. She pulled out a couple options: a long, thin rope, strong enough for extended use as a winch line, and her largest leg brace. She had been using it for bundling loose materials when shopping. Hopefully it would catch an ankle and then the other end of the winch line, then hold as she attempted to trip it.

  "Marble, wait," she called out, cueing the fox to retreat. This time Marble listened. Swinging the line overhead, she created a loop twice the size she thought she'd need and tossed it to land in front of the giant's feet. If she timed it right, she could pull its heels together, bringing it to the ground. Then she’d snap the restraint shut around one leg, closed over both ends of the rope so the legs were bound by the cable.

  She tossed it high, letting the large loop fall almost to the ground, and waited.

  When both the machine’s feet were in, she waited for its weight to start the shift from one leg to the other, when it would be least able to resist, then pulled back with all her strength. The effort caused her to fall to the ground, but her weight was enough to topple it forward.

  She ran to the giant and wound more rope around its legs before snapping the restraint around the cable. The
legs were too thick for the restraint, so she hoped this would hold.

  The machine slowly struggled. She wrapped the length of it around, tighter, wondering what to do now. It was advanced enough to right itself after falling, but made no reach for its legs, or the cable. The controller apparently couldn’t tell why the machine fell. Just that it had.

  There was a snapping sound in one hip joint and the machine shut down. A failsafe, to keep it from getting more damaged, she guessed.

  She had to find out more about who had made this terrible machine, and she likely didn't have much time. Once they realized she'd caught it, they'd come looking. Of course, they had to figure that part out first. She'd be long done with it by then.

  Arabeth didn't think about what it meant to share their secrets, except to protect the people of her city. That protection wasn't optional. As the daughter of a major banking family, she’d been raised to see it’s people as resources, but as her grandfather’s protégé she knew better. Both sides taught her that people were precious.

  She pulled at the fur on its back, looking for a hatch or panel to open. She had to find out what the purpose of this machine truly was. A recessed area hinted at a seam. It was square and about the size of a dinner plate. A small knife should suffice in prying the panel up. She dragged the blade along the metal, feeling for a gap, tearing some fur as she went. It was imitation fur. Another clue, she smiled.

  If it had been her, she would have welded the body shut. They must have been in a rush, or it was still in testing.

  Inside the chest cavity, she saw nothing more than the simple mechanics required to move the automaton. Standing, she frowned. There was nothing out of the ordinary at all.

  She shook her nerves out. When she first saw it walking down the road, it was turning its head from side to side, just as it had in the square.

  The head must be the key to it. Taking a firm grip on her blade, she cut the fur away from the neck. She could take the head and examine it in her lab. She'd have all the time she needed then.