The Gadgeteer

Chapter 19

ARABETH WENT STRAIGHT to her parent's house, arriving in her usual leather coat, loose brown cotton pants, and form-fitting tan cotton shirt. Maybe she should have, out of respect for the men involved, but she couldn't make herself care. Too much was at stake.

Immediately a servant swept her away into a spare bedroom.

"Your mother has clothes ready for you." The woman smiled as she held her arm out, palm up, towards a semi-formal emerald green dress with a subtle sheen.

Moments later, suitably attired though a little odd as she held the suitcase from earlier, Arabeth stood at the entrance to the drawing room, looking for her sister. The room was warmly lit by several tall glass standing candelabras that circled the room. In the centre sat two long tables, each identically ordained with a long, deep green table cloth and short floral center pieces. Eight chairs, four to a side, sat evenly spaced, already taken by the other guests.

This was to be a quiet dinner. Thankfully, she'd talked her mother out of the restaurant idea. Why she'd even suggested it was beyond Arabeth. Letting a man pay for your food or giving a gift given publicly was viewed as causing someone to feel indebted to you and even suggested you are "eliciting immoral favours." Prostitution.

Her mother knew this, so why she'd suggested it in the first place was one more thing Arabeth couldn't understand about the situation. Maybe her mother's mental gears were slipping. Or maybe it was a way to convince Arabeth she'd be safer married.

Including herself, there would be eight women and eight men. She looked around, counting. One of the men seemed to be missing. Maybe he'd chosen to stay away from what was clearly a match-making dinner.

Arabeth spotted her sister sitting in a over-stuffed office chair. To her surprise, Graham sat near Maralise, reclining comfortably on the far side of the room.

"Thank God," she muttered under her breath. She smiled their way, walking over. Someone she could have an interesting conversation with, sister irrespective.

With a bare nod to the others she passed, Arabeth slid the small suitcase under her place at the table and sat.

"I had no idea you'd be here. I went by your workshop with a question earlier," Arabeth said to Graham.

"I'm a little surprised myself, to be honest. I didn't realize you were available. Two years passes rather quickly, it seems." He cleared his throat. "What is your question? Perhaps discussing that will smooth out the awkwardness of this situation."

She glanced at over her shoulder at no one in particular, then slid the small suitcase over to Graham.

He popped the latches, looking puzzled.

"Strange thing for you to have. And I can't tell if you're brave or desperate to be packing it around in the open like this," he said.

"How do you mean?"

"This is a prototype I had been working on for the army, to help stop the war."

"Our army? They're testing it here." She shook her head. "That's wrong. We have to stop them, no matter who is behind it."

"We can't, but now that you have my prototype, I think things are going to get very interesting." He closed the case and set it down, sliding it back to her.

"Can you explain a few details for me? I understand one group of gears is to generate power, and the other is to adjust the range, frequency, and direction. The wiring is all about power, but there's a six-inch rounded glass tube, about a quarter-inch wide, filled with a blue oil. That I don't understand."