The Gadgeteer

Chapter 4

THE automaton's head revealed no secrets. Frustrated, Arabeth slammed her tweezers down. Not one component was standard, according to Blastborn technology, meaning Arabeth was no closer to understanding how it worked.

All she'd found was a mess of colour-coded wires, a pair of clear glass tubes holding what seemed to be gem fragments, miniature transmitter, and a primitive circuit board. She needed to read that board, but her equipment wasn't cooperating.

She had to admit, she couldn't see how this thing got people attacking each other, although this hardware had to be a part of it. Civilized people didn't just break out into block-wide brawls, then stop and go on with life as if someone hit a switch. Even if a subliminal thought was being transmitted.

Arabeth and Marble hurried to the station, hoping Melanie would have some useful information. It was Samuel Hicks at the station counter, instead of at his detective's desk. Not that it bothered her, but where was Melanie?

"You should go home. Straight home," he said.

"I was, but I have questions," she sighed and tried to look encouraging. "You must have a theory about what is causing the madness."

"That's not how this works, Abby. You need to let us do our jobs."

"I can build a grid map, you know." That was actually a good idea, she thought. Sort of. If she contracted Bernie, she'd have a quick picture of what was happening. "Have it your way, Hicks. I have other sources."

"Come on, Abby. People are being killed out there. You don't want to be one of them."

"The city isn't safe for regular people. That's exactly why I want to help." She paused. "I'm not a detective, but I have related skills. If I make a wrong turn, it's my life, my loss." She leaned forward again. "You know, if the bounty program really shuts down, my mother is working to marry me off again. You know I can't let that happen. I need work."

A look of concern flashed across his face, then he locked eyes with her, saying nothing. It was a little unnerving, but she would not back down.

"I don't see how that relates to this," he said through a clenched jaw.

"All right," she acquiesced. "I'll see you later, Hicks." She spun to leave, ensuring that Marble made it through before the door slammed a little too loudly behind her. She winced a little, inwardly. He was worried - justifiably, she supposed. But now she'd wasted too much time trying to convince him.

Where was Melanie, anyway? She turned and headed out, making sure Marble was out first.

"Wait," Hicks called out as the door started to close behind her. "I saw that look."

She shrugged as she walked away. The door behind her reopened and Sam strode out and grabbed her wrist.

"Abby, I'm serious. This is not your run-of-the-mill vagrant. This is someone who wants the front page of the newspaper. They want terror. Killing a one of Blastborn's privileged," he paused. "You hate the word, but it's still accurate. Killing a young, rich widow would do exactly that."

"How could they target me? I don't dress like that, act like that, or even share that information with anyone. There is no way they'd know." She frowned.

"Still, I should go with you. Wisdom needs to win once in a while."

This was not a debate she'd be lured into. She heaved a sigh. Building her map and plotting out the current incidents wouldn't take long. Then yes, she'd be out again. Hiring Bernie would speed up data collection, but still take time. Sam's volunteering was the best solution.

"As long as you understand it's my map, I'll wait a reasonable amount of time." A second pair of eyes might come in handy. This would have been annoying if she didn't enjoy his company so much.

"That's not waiting."

"But it is a compromise. If you bring today's addresses, that will incentivize my waiting." It would also be worth waiting around for.

The barest shadow of a smile flashed across his face. "Agreed."

A sense of comfort sat on the edge of her mind. She pushed it away, not sure why it existed. Comfort was not something she wanted. It was an illusion.

"There's something I need to talk to you about, too," Hicks said. "Business related."

"We can discuss business later... Wait, it's about Harbertrope, again, isn't it?"

"In a way." He paused, seeming to consider how best to say it. "The bounty program will officially shut down as of Friday."

"If they think it's not effective, they should lift my quota!"

"I'm not sure why. I'll try to find out, but Harbertrope knows we're friends. He may not say. Honestly, I suspect that he fears your parent's political influence more than the Police Commissioner's disapproval. If anything happened to you on the job, he'd lose more than his occupation."

"Gadgets pay well enough, but... you know my mother. She's going to get me married off again if I can't find a way to dodge her schemes."

Memories of a five-year marriage where she was all but locked away by a husband who ignored her was enough to trigger panic. He came and went, entertaining friends, but that was forbidden for her, and if she disobeyed... well, he was very good at manipulating people.

He knew all the lines. Divorce was expensive, and her property had become his when they married. Her family depended on its status to maintain their income, so they wouldn't help her. She would be an outcast both at home, and in the world. In five years of marriage, she hadn't worked her way to the point of not caring about her family... not yet. And there was no way she was losing her grandfather's house. His workshop.

She smiled. "I'm sure someone is screaming for you to get back to work by now."

Laughing, he turned but stopped and looked back at her.

"Wait for here for me."

"Sure, sure." She waved him off.

In the two years since Matthew's death she'd been blissfully happy, cruel as that might sound. Her friends knew there was an edge of fear to it. She worked constantly. She understood freedom now. If Sam wanted to come along, he was welcome, but she'd never wear a marital leash again.