Scotland Hard (Book 2 in the Tom & Laura Series) (24 page)

29.
      
Healing and Dealing

The laboratory was below ground in what had once been the castle’s dungeons. Electric bulbs provided a much colder glow than oil lamps and gave the underground rooms a most unfriendly feel. Doors lined with steel plates prevented access for those who did not know the combination to their safe-like locks. Wide pottery pipes vented air in and out of the room, making strange sounds not dissimilar to breathing.

“To protect the castle from any noxious substances in the air down here,” McBride explained when he saw Tom’s gaze lingering on the vents. “We thought we had done enough to protect Giles and Andrew from those self-same substances but we were proved wrong.”

“Your two sick Spellbinders? Tom asked and Lord McBride nodded.

The laboratory had been divided into two rooms separated by a wall made of bright red brick and glass. The glass was similar to the panes Tom had seen covering the station except they were much thicker and it was difficult to see through them. The window frames were sealed with a thick layer of putty to prevent air passing through the frame from one room to the other.

Bright electric lighting in the other room allowed Tom to make out vague shapes of what looked like a line of metal vats against the far wall. Each vat stood about four foot high. However, Tom could not see if anything filled them.

There were two men waiting for them in the laboratory. One Tom recognized as Gordon Kemp and he stood talking to a taller man that Tom assumed must be Giles Summers. Summers stood stooped over and was completely bald. When Tom got a little closer he saw the man had no eyebrows.

“Here she is,” Kemp said excitedly to Summers. “Laura Young, a Class A, no less.”

Kemp walked forward eagerly and took Laura’s hand.

“This is Giles Summers,” he told her as they reached the bald man. “He is one of the Spellbinder’s who have been separating the different forms of Uranium for us.”

“I thought the process was supposed to be safe?” Laura asked as she looked at the sick man. He gave a wracking cough that made Tom wince and put out his hand for Laura to shake.

“It would appear we miscalculated,” he said dryly. “If you think I am in a bad state you should see poor Andrew. We used the same precautions we have used in the past for extracting uranium from pitchblende and then dantium from the uranium.”

“Well something must have been different this time,” Laura stated firmly, arching her eyebrows at the man.

“Lord McBride’s special advisor suggested we experiment using the rods of dantium that have been in the reactatron for years. He believed that their twenty years of use might help with the separation process,” Kemp said. “There is now evidence of a new material in those rods. We think it is that material that has made our Spellbinders sick.”

Giles coughed and continued the story.

“To be able to lay the bind we had to touch the rods. They have become brittle and one broke sending clouds of dust over us.”

Giles started coughing and Kemp had to hold him upright until his fit subsided.

“Tom,” Laura commanded and Tom walked over to the man.

“I am a Healer and might be able to help.”

“We have a Healer on our staff. He proved ineffective,” Giles wheezed.

“What do you have to lose?” Laura asked.

Giles thought for a second and nodded in resignation before looking to Tom for instructions. Tom pulled up a chair and indicated that Giles should sit on it.

Tom felt nervous. It was possible that trying to heal this man could be dangerous. He had little control over his recently enhanced healing powers and found it difficult to stop all his strength from being taken from those close to death. He decided to stand behind Giles and place his hands on the man’s neck. Healing required physical contact and if he became too weak, he would collapse and let go of the man. It was the only safety measure he could think of.

“Just relax, this shouldn’t hurt at all,” Tom said as reassuringly as his nervousness allowed. Kemp, Lord McBride, and Laura stood in front of Giles watching Tom with undisguised interest. This was not the way a Healer normally applied his talent and only Laura guessed why Tom was attempting it this particular way.

Tom touched Giles’ neck and found his mind swirling through the man’s body like it was on a runaway train. There was damage everywhere down to the smallest cell. Driving the maelstrom of destruction were small glowing particles embedded in Giles’ lungs. At least that was how it appeared to Tom; that these glowing pieces of death were smashing into the man’s cells and causing them to grow damaged or to die.

Tom felt his legs go weak as energy rushed out of his body to undo the destruction in Giles’s body. Somehow, he was able to persuade Giles’ body to expel those glowing particles, to coat them in slime and get him to cough them out. Giles fell forward coughing and retching and Tom staggered back before dropping to his knees. As Tom lost consciousness, he heard Giles coughing as though he was going to die.

The train carrying
Cam
and her friends arrived at Lord McBride’s estate in the late afternoon. There was a mad scramble to get off, led at least in part by
Arnold
who was desperate to escape the interminable engineering questions of Josiah Green. The man was insatiable in his desire for knowledge, a desire that
Arnold
was singularly ill equipped to satisfy.

To add insult to injury, Camilla had taken considerable delight in egging Green on, whenever
Arnold
dampened his enthusiasm. As soon as the train entered the amazing iron and glass structure of the station,
Arnold
harried his friends out of the compartment, leaving Josiah, wife and baby on their own.

When they disembarked they discovered pandemonium on the concourse. A large sign stated that this was Glen Russell Station, apparently the name of Lord McBride’s estate. People with clipboards were shouting out names, but nobody from the train seemed to be listening. The baggage was being hauled out of the guard’s wagon at the back of the train and the passengers appeared desperate to find their trunks and cases.

This was not an issue for the spies, as they had only hand luggage with them.
Cam
wondered if they should pretend to have lost their trunks, but decided that the best approach was to tell anybody who asked that they were travelling light and planned to buy new clothes upon reaching the estate.

That they were not part of the stampede for the baggage served to make them stand out on the platform. The young man who had added their name to his list when they got on the train walked over to them looking pleased.

“It is nice to see at least one sensible family,” he said as soon as he was close enough to talk. “As you were no doubt informed at your interview, assuming Angus managed to stay sober long enough to tell you, all your needs for living here has been taken care of. You will be taken to one of our new purpose built cottages. After you have settled in your new home, Mr. Smith will be assigned a role in the factory. Follow me and I will take you to your house.”

“It is very warm in here, given the snow on the ground outside,” Daisy said as they walked behind the man.

“The Laird’s magical engineering provides a surplus of heat and you will find your cottage is kept warm with piped hot water. Even the footpaths of the new village are heated underfoot so snow and ice underfoot will not be a problem. The Laird cannot, of course, modify the weather, so you will find it a little chilly once we leave the comfort of the walkway.”

“I did not realize so many people would be starting work with me,”
Arnold
told the man. “Is the estate that large?”

“There is a lot of empty land, but few people live here,” the man explained. “The people arriving today will come close to doubling the workforce and will add a third to the total population of Glen Russell. This community will be nearly five hundred strong when everyone has arrived.”

“I hope there will be enough cottages,”
Cam
said, suddenly worried that their presence might be detected if they were one house short.

“More than enough,” the man said smiling. “We have more cottages than people as the Laird wishes to recruit more specialists later. The Laird’s recruiters have been out across the whole of
Britain
and there were bound to be mistakes, like Angus missing you off his list. The Laird is canny enough to take account of such things in his plans.”

The covered walkway ended at a group of cottages arranged in a neat circle. A single road led away and they saw a series of such circular groups of cottages branching off from the main road.

“Because you came with me while all the other arrivals were scrabbling for their baggage, you can have the pick of the cottages,” the man explained.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Daisy said. She was taking a shine to this handsome young man. “May we know your name so we can tell others how good you have been to us?”

“Why bless you. Didn’t I tell you?” the young man said laughing with delight. “My name is Dougal McBride. The Laird is my Father, so I should advise against you singing my praises too loudly, as everyone will think you are simply sucking up to the family.”

“Well, you have been good to us, even if your father is the Laird,” Daisy stated. “I, for one, am convinced you will prove to be an excellent heir.”

Dougal McBride gave Daisy a deep bow. “And you, Miss Smith, are certainly the fairest young lady to ever enter the Glen Russell estate.”

“I think I am going to be sick,”
Cam
said under her breath as Daisy and Dougal smiled warmly at each other.

30.
      
Recovery

Tom woke to find he was lying on a hard couch in a small room. He was no longer in the laboratory and there was no sign of Giles Summers or anybody else for that matter. He tried to sit up and managed to get halfway before he fell back limply as his head began to spin.

He heard a door open behind him and Lord McBride walked into view. McBride appeared to be pleased about something.

“I thought I knew everything about healing, laddie, but I will admit you taught me something new today,” McBride said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “At first I thought you had killed Giles.”

“How is he?” Tom asked in concern.

“Much, much better than he was. I would have you attempt to heal Andrew as well, except you are obviously not up to it right now.”

“You must treat his vomit with great care,” Tom said urgently. “In my mind’s eye, I saw motes of a substance that shone with a painful light in his lungs. Those motes were twisting and changing the substance of his body, eating him away from the inside out.”

“Interesting,” McBride said rubbing his beard. “Hans has speculated that the dantium is giving off rays like the sun, though he believes it is more like the heat you can feel from a piece of iron taken from the forge that is no longer glowing. Hans Clerkes is my consultant on dantium and its uses.”

Tom now sensed the danger of that substance and made a heartfelt plea.

“Lord McBride, I beg of you; do not let anyone in that laboratory go near that vomit. I cannot be sure I have saved Giles, the damage to his body was so severe.”

McBride showed no concern at Tom’s words.

“Do not bother yourself about it, laddie. It has been flushed away into the castle sewers and will be diluted beyond any ability to harm. The floor has been thoroughly flushed and scrubbed. We are not amateurs in such matters.”

Tom’s concern turned to Laura and her absence.

“Where is Laura? Is she safe?”

“She is working with Gordon as I ordered. I have decided to give you a treat for saving Giles. You will come along with me on a tour of the factory. I am sure you will find it fascinating.”

Tom sat up slowly and discovered his head was no longer spinning. Lord McBride was already at the door and looking impatient.

“Come along, laddie. I donna have all day.”

The factory was impressive and unbelievably noisy. Lord McBride led Tom into the first of several immense iron clad sheds all constructed to the same specification. Their corrugated roofs were forty feet or more from the ground. Huge electric lamps hung from steel supports holding the structure together.

Cast iron steps led up to a gantry than ran along the roof of the first shed. Lord McBride took the steps two at a time in his eagerness. From the walkway, it was possible to gather a clear view of what was going on.

The first thing to surprise Tom was the railway tracks set in the floor of the shed. Two train lines ran parallel through the shed with sets of points where carriages or engine could be rolled from one line to the other. Large carthorses were pulling one of the partially assembled engines from one assembly area to another

Chain hoists were being used to lift steel panels and other large metal components into position where they were hot riveted or bolted into place. The noise in the shed was horrific as riveters smashed their hammers onto formers to give each red hot rivet a neat dome head. The workers appeared to be making copies of the steam engine that had pulled their train.

“This area is being used to make the reactatron trains.” Lord McBride shouted. Tom could barely hear him over the racket. “We are about to ramp up production and will be doubling the workforce over the next few weeks. The reactatrons are manufactured in a specialist shed that I’ll show you shortly. Come with me.”

Lord McBride led him along the walkway. At the end of the shed, the walkway crossed over the floor and went straight through the wall via a set of double doors into a shed on the other side.

The second shed proved to be blissfully quiet compared to the first. The walkway was enclosed with iron plates painted a dark green and with windows above waist height. Tom had never seen such a profligate use of glass in his life, but it served to allow them to look down at the work going on below while remaining isolated from the environment.

Men in strange clothes worked in small groups some distance apart from each other. The clothes they wore were unlike anything Tom had seen. They appeared to be made of rubber and had no visible buttons or other fastenings. They covered the workers completely, except for their faces. The men wore goggles and masks to protect their faces and lungs from anything in the air.

“It is a shame that Giles was not wearing such an outfit when he was exposed to your dantium,” Tom told Lord McBride.

“He was wearing a set of these protective clothes, including the face mask,” Lord McBride said. “I think we must assume that the protection they offer is not adequate, at least when dealing with used rods of dantium.”

“What are they doing down there?”

“They are packing crushed dantium into the copper tubes. The dantium must be stored in small amounts and that is why the teams are working so far apart from each other. It is a slow process and it will take each team the best part of a month to pack a single rod.”

“It must be horrible working in that rubber.”

“No one is allowed to work for more than half an hour at a time. The men are washed down using water jets before they are allowed to remove their garments. I have no wish to see my workers die through neglect.”

“Yet you are not above kidnap,” Tom remarked dryly.

“Not through choice, laddie. It is the Empire and the English scum who run it who force me to use despicable methods.”

Lord McBride led Tom through to the next shed where components for the steam engines were being assembled and tested.

Alice
was not a happy girl. She had been taken to a small dormitory where she found she was to share a single room with three other girls around her own age. They were asleep when she arrived and there had been a fair amount of grumbling as a lamp was brought into the room to guide her to her bed.

Only a few hours later, she was shaken awake as dawn broke and ordered to wash her face in ice-cold water. Then she was hurried off to eat a breakfast of porridge laced with salt and washed down with a mug of sour tasting milk.

The other girls were extremely rude to her and pinched and pushed her. A stern looking woman dressed in black and wearing a black silk veil came into the room and ordered the girls to stand at attention. The woman carried a long thin bendy stick, which
Alice
soon found out was there to sting any girl who caused the lady the slightest displeasure.

Alice
seemed to annoy the lady, simply by having the temerity to exist.

“My name is Madam Hulot,” the woman told
Alice
sternly in a heavy French accent. “You will always address me as Madam Hulot, nothing else.” Madam Hulot swung her stick so it caught
Alice
on the left thigh. Even through her dress, it stung dreadfully. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, Madam Hulot,”
Alice
answered quickly. She recognized the woman’s type and knew that her only hope of avoiding pain was to satisfy her every whim.

“If you have not already introduced yourself to the others I will do it for you now. They are Miss Trenchard, Miss Mathews and Miss Williams.” Each girl took one step forward and curtseyed as Madam Hulot spoke. “Girls, this unkempt creature is known as Miss Short.”

Alice
failed to step forward and curtsy mainly because she had never practiced curtsying and did not know how to do it. A stinging pain across her backside proved incentive enough to force her to make the attempt. Madam Hulot sniffed with contempt at her efforts, but did not hit her again.

“It is doubtful whether any of you will ever reach a state of sufficient grace to be considered a lady, but it is my unfortunate task to train you in the gentle arts as three of you already know only too well. It is most inconvenient that I should have to start again with Miss Short, after all these weeks we have worked together.”

Madam Hulot smiled through her veil at them. “I expect you others to assist Miss Short in her efforts to catch up with you. As an incentive to encourage you in this onerous task, I have decided that every time I have to punish her for poor understanding, I shall also punish each of you.”

The three girls stared at
Alice
with undisguised hatred.

By the early afternoon,
Alice
was wondering if she would survive until the evening. Madam Hulot seemed to take a special delight in finding fault with her during their lessons. Madam Hulot asked her questions on etiquette that
Alice
had not a clue about, and Madam Hulot always reinforced her eventual sneering answers with a swift swing of her stick.

If this was not bad enough, Madam Hulot would invariably punish the other girls for
Alice
’s lack of knowledge. By the late afternoon,
Alice
was wondering if the girls would try to kill her when they got her alone. She seriously considered the possibility that this might be Madam Hulot’s plan, a way of getting rid of her unwanted charge while blaming it on the children.

It was the sheer unfairness of it all that made
Alice
broadcast out a screaming message to Tricky. The first message she had bothered to send since the night they were on the train.

‘WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BASTARD? YOU ARE NEVER AROUND WHEN I NEED YOU.’

The cottage the team chose as theirs was the one nearest the walkway.
Cam
suspected that the cottages were all the same and she was anxious to get rid of the Laird’s son, so they could formulate a plan of action.

Daisy, on the other hand, seemed delighted with the presence of Dougal McBride and asked him all sorts of questions as they toured the cottage. Built with three bedrooms upstairs and a fixed enamel bath with running hot and cold water as well as a privy, the cottage was far superior accommodation to anything a worker could expect to afford.

There was a kitchen range in the well-outfitted kitchen as well as a separate dining room and study.

“You will find the larder stocked with enough food to last you a few days. With the compliments of my father,” Dougal told Daisy as he swung open the larder door to reveal cured pork and fresh bread among other things.

“Your father is a most generous man,” Daisy replied, giving him a friendly smile.

“He inherited it from me,” Dougal told her, returning her smile. “You will find me more than capable of matching his gestures.”

“I am sure that anything you were to give a woman would be well received and reciprocated in kind.” Daisy fluttered her eyebrows.

“There must be other people you need to attend to back at the station,”
Cam
said. “We must not keep you from your work.”

“Alas, you are right,” Dougal replied sadly. “However, we are having a cèilidh tonight at the castle, that’s a Scottish party, well mainly an excuse for the men and women to dance together. I trust you will attend, children included. It is a good opportunity for the new workers to meet with those of us who were born here. My father will certainly expect you to attend.”

“We will be delighted, Dougal,” Daisy said as she clapped her hands together in delight. “A dance, how wonderful.”

Dougal left the cottage after saying farewell to Daisy at least six times.

 
“We don’t have time for romance,”
Cam
snarled at Daisy as soon as the cottage door was shut.

“He is the Laird’s son and I am trained as a spy, remember? We can use him,” Daisy retorted.

“Girls, girls…”
Arnold
protested. He would have said more on the subject had Tricky not put his hands over his ears, screamed in pain and fainted. Ebb caught his friend deftly as he fell, having moved behind Tricky a few seconds before he collapsed.