The Secret Abyss

by Darrell Pitt

  Gabrielle waved the others forward. There were no guards at the exit. They were at the top of a hill, the stars bright in the sky. The countryside lay swathed in darkness, broken only by a point of light from a faraway farmhouse. It was about midnight. A river lay at the bottom with a small steamer at a dock.

  Jack breathed in the cool evening air. It smelt like freedom. The people behind him were quiet, but others were weeping. Some raised their arms and prayed. Some kissed the ground.

  Jack had been in the cave for less than a day and it was the most horrible place he had ever known. His eyes raked the crowd. Some of these people had been unjustly imprisoned for years. They probably expected to die without ever again seeing the light of day.

  The woman with the baby drew close to Jack. ‘My daughter was born in there,’ she said. ‘I feared we would die there too.’

  She held the baby above her head. For the first time in her life, the baby took a lungful of air as a free person, and she gurgled happily, waving arms and legs at the silent sky.

  Jack’s eyes were wet. Scarlet came close to him. Before he knew what was happening, she had planted a kiss on his cheek.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Just for being you,’ she said.

  Looking into the night, Jack said, ‘Do you think Mr Doyle’s all right?’

  ‘He’s the most resourceful person I’ve ever known,’ Scarlet said. ‘If there was a way for him to survive that terrible battle, then he’s alive.’

  Joseph approached, pointing at the steamer. ‘I can pilot that,’ he said. ‘I used to be a riverboat captain.’

  The group scurried down to the ship. No guards were in sight. It must have been a long time since an escape attempt. At one point they froze, hearing the distant sound of shouting and laughing from beyond the hill. A party was in full swing.

  Jack scrambled aboard, the deck creaking underfoot. Joseph and some of the men prepared the steamer for departure. A woman lent Gabrielle a ragged coat to cover her legs. The Secret Service agent drew Jack and Scarlet to one side.

  ‘I can’t leave here yet,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ Jack said.

  ‘I’ve got to stop Ashgrove, and I may not have a better chance than this. I spied a building in the valley. My guess is that Ashgrove is there.’

  ‘We can’t leave you behind,’ Scarlet protested.

  ‘This is my job, not yours.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘You’re not doing this alone.’

  A shot shattered the night and something phutted past them. They turned back to see horror on Gabrielle’s face. Her left shoulder bloomed red.

  ‘Oh no,’ Jack moaned.

  Gabrielle took a stumbling step backwards before sliding to the ground.

  ‘Help!’ Scarlet yelled. ‘Help us!’

  Another shot rang out. Shadowy figures, screaming blue murder, started down the slope. They’re onto us, Jack thought.

  The steamer’s engine fired up. The paddles started to turn, driving the ship away from the shoreline as a steady volley of bullets slapped into the timber hull.

  Two women helped carry Gabrielle into a cabin. She was bleeding profusely, writhing in pain. One of the women applied direct pressure to the wound. ‘Ashgrove needs to be stopped,’ Gabrielle said through clenched teeth. ‘The fate of the country depends on us.’

  ‘I’ll go after him,’ Jack promised.

  ‘We’ll go after him,’ Scarlet said. ‘We’ll find him and inform the authorities.’

  ‘Scarlet…’ Jack said.

  ‘I don’t want to hear it.’

  Gabrielle grimaced. ‘But it’s too dangerous…’ She passed out. David appeared, promising to look after her, and Jack and Scarlet returned to the deck. The steamer was racing downriver. The armed men were out of sight.

  A few minutes later, David joined them. ‘You must take shelter,’ Scarlet advised. ‘Ashgrove may come after you in an airship.’

  ‘We’ll take cover if they get close.’

  David followed Jack and Scarlet as they made their way to the stern.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ David asked.

  ‘What needs to be done,’ Scarlet said.

  Jack and Scarlet balanced themselves on the back railing of the steamer, the dark water boiling beneath them. The riverbank lay swathed in gloom. Bracing themselves against the railing, they leapt into the inky water.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jack and Scarlet swam across the cold river as the steamer chugged away. They reached the shore, waded through the undergrowth and climbed up a steep embankment. It was about one in the morning. The night was quiet apart from a hooting owl and an insect scurrying about in the bush.

  As they collapsed onto the grass, Jack gave Scarlet a look.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said. ‘And I’m not listening to you.’

  ‘You’re listening whether you want to or not. This could get us killed.’

  ‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘You mustn’t spend your time worrying about my every move. I’m quite capable.’

  ‘Then I’ll just say one thing.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘Your hair looks like two badgers had a fight in it.’

  They climbed the hill. The skies were beginning to cloud over. Good. It increased their chances of eluding any pursuers. Jack pointed out a small farmhouse.

  ‘I don’t believe that would be part of Ashford’s estate,’ Scarlet said. ‘He wouldn’t stay in anything less than a mansion.’

  ‘I think you’re right. Wait here.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  He didn’t answer her, racing silently towards the house. He climbed a fence, scooted to a clothesline and dragged a pile of clothing from it. Two hats hung on a hook on the porch and he snatched these too. A dog started barking as he hurried back to Scarlet.

  They ran across a field, putting distance between themselves and the property. Scarlet grabbed the clothes from Jack as they took refuge under a tree.

  ‘Good show, Jack!’ Scarlet said. ‘We stand out a mile in our evening gear. This will be the perfect disguise to…’

  Her voice trailed off.

  ‘What is it?’ Jack asked.

  ‘This is women’s clothing.’

  ‘What?’

  Scarlet became thoughtful. ‘It is the perfect disguise. Brinkie gets away with all sorts of shenanigans because she’s a woman.’

  ‘I can’t…’

  ‘You can.’ Scarlet pushed the clothes at him. ‘Put these on.’

  Jack groaned. He and Scarlet went to separate sides of the tree to change. Jack struggled to put on the petticoat. After his third attempt, he was able to squeeze into the dress. Scarlet was already waiting, wearing a plain brown frock. Most of her red hair was pushed under the farmer’s hat. Jack looked down. His dress was pink and covered in blue daisies. The hat was embroidered with a yellow sunflower.

  ‘My goodness,’ Scarlet said. ‘That really suits you.’

  ‘God take me,’ he said. ‘Please.’

  ‘No. I mean it. You should dress like that whenever we’re investigating a crime. Then you can quickly change into boys’ clothing when required.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘No-one will know who you are!’

  ‘I don’t know who I am!’ He pushed the hat low. ‘This isn’t going to fool anyone.’

  ‘It will fool everyone. Who would expect to see you in a dress?’

  Well, that was true. ‘You are never to tell anyone about this.’

  ‘In that case I will record it in my memoirs,’ she said. ‘Imagine how future generations will think of you.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Imagine.’

  They crossed the field to another small hill. ‘That’s the house Gabrielle described,’ Scarlet said, pointing down the valley.

  It was a two-storey Georgian mansion, surrounded by men. This was clearly part of Ashgrove’s operation. Orders were flying about. No doubt they were trying to work out what to do
about the escapees.

  Jack and Scarlet headed down to a timber fence. Carefully climbing over it, they raced to a barn near the house where Jack peered through a crack between the front doors.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ Scarlet whispered.

  ‘I don’t know. Something.’

  But it was too dark to make out any detail. A murmur of voices came from the house. Jack and Scarlet made their way around the side until they reached one of the windows. They heard Ashgrove.

  ‘…idiots were supposed to be guarding the slaves! Must I do everything myself? These people must be hunted down before they can alert the authorities! I still need Slate to finish his work on the Excalibur.’

  ‘They will be found,’ another man said. ‘I’ve got dozens of men searching.’

  ‘So Slate is cooperating?’ came a voice.

  ‘I have had to persuade him.’ Ashgrove laughed nastily. ‘Although I don’t intend to cause him any permanent harm. I expect we will enjoy a fruitful relationship for some time to come.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘In the basement.’

  Jack heard footsteps entering the room.

  ‘Good news, Mr President.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The Alexandria sighted the ship and attacked it.’

  ‘Excellent. Any survivors?’

  ‘Not that we can see.’

  Jack caught Scarlet’s eye. They heard a door close, and one man offered another a drink. Jack and Scarlet crept away from the window. ‘I hope Gabrielle and the others are all right,’ he whispered.

  ‘Let’s hope they had already abandoned the ship.’

  Jack could see only one bright spot in this whole horrible situation. Mr Slate was refusing to cooperate.

  ‘Ashgrove won’t be able to finish the weapon without Olinka Slate,’ he said. ‘We need to find him.’

  They made a loop around the building, searching for an external entrance to the basement.

  ‘It looks like the only way in is through the house,’ Scarlet said. ‘Most of Ashgrove’s men are out looking for the prisoners. He would hardly expect a burglary in his own home.’

  She had a point. They found an open window with a barrel under it. The room was dark. Jack began climbing until his feet caught on his dress. He toppled off the windowsill and landed on his head.

  Oof!

  Scarlet climbed in after him.

  ‘How do you get around in this gear?’ he asked.

  ‘Now you know what it’s like for women. One day trousers will be as common for us as they are for men.’

  ‘Of course they will,’ Jack said. ‘Pigs will fly too.’

  Light poured in under the door. Scarlet eased it open and peered into a hallway. Nothing. She motioned him to follow. Stairs led to the next floor with another door underneath. But it was locked.

  Scarlet produced a sliver of metal and picked the lock. She had the door open in less than a minute. They crept down another set of stairs. Gaslight lit a large room filled with wine racks—all of them empty. Wordlessly, Jack and Scarlet separated and searched for another door that might lead them to a different basement.

  ‘The only way in and out is through that door,’ Scarlet said, pointing up the stairs.

  ‘That doesn’t make sense. Ashgrove said that Olinka Slate was in the basement.’

  ‘So where is he?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Scarlet tugged thoughtfully at a lock of her hair. ‘We must do as Mr Doyle would do. Conduct a thorough examination of this room from top to bottom.’

  First they checked the ceiling. It was timber, held up with crossbeams and supports. Next the walls and the wine racks. The racks were timber and the walls were solid stone. They examined the floor. Jack found nothing, but Scarlet called him over.

  ‘You see?’ She pointed. ‘There’s dust everywhere, but here it is clean.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not sure. This wall looks like all the others.’

  A neuron flared in Jack’s brain. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘Before Ashgrove attacked with the Whip of Fire, he moved from the house to the barn without us seeing him.’

  ‘Of course! He must have used an underground tunnel. There’s probably one here too.’

  They touched the wall. The other surfaces were cold and damp, but this was dry. It didn’t even feel like rock. They pushed and pulled at it. The wall shook. It was a secret door, but they could see no way to open it.

  Scarlet grabbed his arm. ‘Look.’

  She pointed at the wine rack. A knot in the wood, shiny and smooth, stood out from the timber.

  Scarlet pushed it…

  …and the wall clicked open.

  Yes!

  A light shone from an inner chamber. Not a gaslight, but something brighter and cleaner. Jack went inside. It was a room as large as the first basement, only filled with benches and pieces of equipment, dynamos and engines made from copper and iron. It had the same strange smell as the warehouse in London.

  Electricity.

  ‘Mr Slate?’ Jack called. ‘Are you in here?’

  ‘I certainly am.’

  The voice came from behind. Jack turned to see a man holding a metal pipe. Before Jack could utter a word, Olinka Slate brought the weapon down hard upon his head and everything went black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jack opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor, the inventor standing above him. Slate was an older man with dark hair parted in the middle and piercing hazel eyes.

  ‘…if you’ll listen to me,’ Scarlet was saying.

  ‘I already told your employer that I would not do any more work for you.’ He had a European accent. ‘And I meant it!’

  Jack groaned. ‘We don’t work for Charles Ashgrove. We’re here to save you.’

  ‘Save me?’ the inventor peered at him. ‘You girls?’

  ‘Yes.’ Jack grimaced, pulling off the hat. ‘Us girls.’

  ‘But you’re not a girl at all!’

  Scarlet narrated their dangerous expedition to find him. By the time she finished, Olinka Slate had lowered the metal pipe and was staring at Jack as if he was a bug under a microscope. ‘Do you always dress as a girl?’ he asked. ‘Is it a way of life…?’

  ‘No!’ Jack said. ‘I’m in disguise!’

  Scarlet cut in. ‘Charles Ashgrove intends to force you to finish working on the Whip of Fire.’

  ‘He has been trying to force me,’ Slate said, shaking his head sadly.

  ‘Are you aware that it’s caused terrible damage,’ Jack asked.

  ‘I know. I’m so sorry. Everything has gone horribly wrong.’

  Slate told them he had spent his life searching for a power source that would help mankind. Over the years, he had made some breakthroughs, but not one to provide unlimited energy for all.

  ‘Then I was approached by Charles Ashgrove. He showed me a meteorite that had been found on one of his farms. It had strange properties that I had never before seen.’

  Jack remembered Ashgrove’s words back on the steamer: It has a hypnotic effect if one stares at it too long. I made the mistake of looking at it and I was almost lost.

  ‘The stone is dangerous,’ Slate said. ‘But it is made even more so in conjunction with the Whip of Fire. It drains electricity from the atmosphere. With the right calibration, I believe my device can benefit every person on Earth.’

  ‘But Ashgrove is using it as a weapon,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘And I did not realise until it was too late.’ When Jack described the destructive battle, the scientist shook his head. ‘I can well believe it,’ he said. ‘Fortunately that Whip of Fire is a prototype. It only uses a tiny chip from the meteorite.’

  ‘What about the rest of it?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Ashgrove plans to use it on an airship called the Excalibur. With the larger Whip of Fire installed, it will be unstoppable.’

  ‘So we need to get you out of here.’

  ‘I
wish you could. Unfortunately that will not be so easy.’

  A metal bracelet enclosed Olinka Slate’s ankle, its chain connected to a wall. A combination lock fastened the two ends of the bracelet. ‘It’s quite ingenious, really,’ Mr Slate said, peering at the lock.

  ‘I’m glad you appreciate it!’ Jack said.

  The lock, the chain and the latch were all secure. Without the combination, Jack and Scarlet could see no way to free the inventor.

  ‘I have an idea,’ Mr Slate said. ‘The Whip of Fire on the tank can easily cut through the chain. You can free me, we’ll find Ashgrove’s safe and retrieve the remainder of the meteorite.’

  Scarlet frowned, remembering the carnage on the battlefield. ‘Are you sure you can control it?’

  ‘I can calibrate it so carefully I could cut butter.’

  ‘Isn’t it too big to carry around?’ Jack asked.

  ‘You’re thinking of the antenna,’ Mr Slate explained. ‘It disperses the power. The actual Whip of Fire can be removed and is small enough to carry about in one’s hand.’

  ‘We’ll need the rest of the meteorite,’ Jack said. ‘Where is the safe?’

  Olinka Slate gave a short laugh. ‘Ashgrove is a creature of habit. He always keeps a safe hidden behind a painting in his upstairs study.’

  ‘We can’t leave you here.’

  ‘My invention has already destroyed enough lives. You can worry about me once we have the device.’ He indicated a door set in the far wall. ‘That leads to the barn. I will remain here and count.’

  ‘Count?’ Jack asked.

  The inventor nodded. ‘I love numbers that are divisible by three. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that’s kept me sane. Did you know that 574,164 is evenly divisible by three?’

  Jack remembered Gabrielle saying that the inventor was eccentric. ‘I didn’t know that,’ he said. ‘We’ll find the Whip of Fire and come back for you.’

  ‘And remember.’ The inventor held up a finger. ‘Don’t look at the meteorite.’

  ‘Is it really that dangerous?’

  ‘It has destructive properties. You must resist the temptation to stare into it at all costs.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Jack paused. ‘Just one thing.’