Read Online The Doomsday Machine (Horatio Lyle) by Catherine Webb - Free Book Online
Authors: Catherine Webb
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wall.
Beyond, by the thin grey daylight filtering down through a thousand seeming pinpricks set into the ceiling, was a room, all by itself in the middle of nowhere. It was high and domed, made of the same red brick as the rest of the passage, but its floor was clean, except for the odd dirty footprint, and covered over with grey stone slabs. On the far side, shadows lurked beneath a low arch, half-obscuring some long wooden tables and a number of chairs.
But the chairs had been violently overturned: indeed, the whole room had been smashed. Tess saw retort stands thrown down, the broken glass of test tubes and flasks, open burners, wrenched pipes and a forest of twisted wire scattered across the floor like a shrubbery of copper and steel, whose deadly torn points stood here and there at knee height.
Lyle muttered, ‘We need to get into there.’
‘Professional at work,’ sang out Tess with false cheerfulness.
She rummaged in her pocket for the little bundle of tools and hooks that were her only possession treated with real love; oiled and polished, they were always kept ready for who knew what circumstance. The lock was not the worst she had come up against - it too was new and relatively well oiled, making the little pieces inside it click more easily into place. She searched with one tool for the points of weakness, where the catches wanted to slide back, and with another eased them gently upwards, pinning them in place and twisting. The lock snapped open, and she pulled the chain free, triumphantly pushing at the gate.
‘Wait!’
She stopped dead. There was no arguing with Lyle when his voice rang out that loudly in a tight space.
‘Don’t move.’
Tess stayed absolutely still. Lyle eased past her, his back against the wall. With the tip of the match he prodded at something just beyond the half-open grate: a wire, strung at one end to the opening gate, and disappearing at the other into the wall. ‘What do you think?’ His voice was now quiet and intense.
‘Cut it,’ hissed Tess.
Lyle threw the match past the grate into the gloom of the chamber, and pulled out a flick-knife the length of his middle finger. He slid it up and through the wire, which snapped back into the wall with a deep boing . Overhead, something thudded in the ceiling, sending down a cloud of dust. They waited, holding their breath, for the dust to settle. When it became apparent that nothing else was going to happen, Tess dared to breathe out again. ‘Don’t want visitors, you s’pose?’
So saying, she pushed the grate all the way open.
The thing in the ceiling that had gone thunk suddenly started to clamour. Somewhere overhead, a bell began to ring, and from down the tunnel there came a gentle whisper, like the last breath of an elephant, heard far off.
‘Erm . . .’ began Tess.
‘Can’t be good,’ murmured Lyle. ‘Quick, inside.’
They hurried in, Lyle picking his way straight to the nearest table. ‘Right. Now.’ His voice came unnaturally fast, and in the distance the elephant’s breath grew to the sigh of a gentle breeze. ‘Think! What ’s been going on here?’
Tess took in the shattered equipment, the broken glass, the torn wire, the overturned boxes and crates. ‘Uh ... science like how it shouldn’t be done?’
‘Teresa!’ Lyle beamed at her.
‘Wha’?’
‘For a moment you actually sounded as though you had a decent grounding in laboratory procedure!’ He saw her deliberately blank expression, and sighed. ‘Never mind. All right, it ’s a laboratory, for studying . . . oh, look!’ With an expression of delight he picked up an object that to Tess looked for all the world like a glass squid. ‘I’ve been trying to get one of these for years!’
‘What’s that?’
‘You use it for the crystallization of leached potassium nitrate from . . . certain waste products.’
Tess’s eyes narrowed. ‘What . . . waste products ?’
‘Well . . . you know . . .’ The tips of Lyle’s ears
Beyond, by the thin grey daylight filtering down through a thousand seeming pinpricks set into the ceiling, was a room, all by itself in the middle of nowhere. It was high and domed, made of the same red brick as the rest of the passage, but its floor was clean, except for the odd dirty footprint, and covered over with grey stone slabs. On the far side, shadows lurked beneath a low arch, half-obscuring some long wooden tables and a number of chairs.
But the chairs had been violently overturned: indeed, the whole room had been smashed. Tess saw retort stands thrown down, the broken glass of test tubes and flasks, open burners, wrenched pipes and a forest of twisted wire scattered across the floor like a shrubbery of copper and steel, whose deadly torn points stood here and there at knee height.
Lyle muttered, ‘We need to get into there.’
‘Professional at work,’ sang out Tess with false cheerfulness.
She rummaged in her pocket for the little bundle of tools and hooks that were her only possession treated with real love; oiled and polished, they were always kept ready for who knew what circumstance. The lock was not the worst she had come up against - it too was new and relatively well oiled, making the little pieces inside it click more easily into place. She searched with one tool for the points of weakness, where the catches wanted to slide back, and with another eased them gently upwards, pinning them in place and twisting. The lock snapped open, and she pulled the chain free, triumphantly pushing at the gate.
‘Wait!’
She stopped dead. There was no arguing with Lyle when his voice rang out that loudly in a tight space.
‘Don’t move.’
Tess stayed absolutely still. Lyle eased past her, his back against the wall. With the tip of the match he prodded at something just beyond the half-open grate: a wire, strung at one end to the opening gate, and disappearing at the other into the wall. ‘What do you think?’ His voice was now quiet and intense.
‘Cut it,’ hissed Tess.
Lyle threw the match past the grate into the gloom of the chamber, and pulled out a flick-knife the length of his middle finger. He slid it up and through the wire, which snapped back into the wall with a deep boing . Overhead, something thudded in the ceiling, sending down a cloud of dust. They waited, holding their breath, for the dust to settle. When it became apparent that nothing else was going to happen, Tess dared to breathe out again. ‘Don’t want visitors, you s’pose?’
So saying, she pushed the grate all the way open.
The thing in the ceiling that had gone thunk suddenly started to clamour. Somewhere overhead, a bell began to ring, and from down the tunnel there came a gentle whisper, like the last breath of an elephant, heard far off.
‘Erm . . .’ began Tess.
‘Can’t be good,’ murmured Lyle. ‘Quick, inside.’
They hurried in, Lyle picking his way straight to the nearest table. ‘Right. Now.’ His voice came unnaturally fast, and in the distance the elephant’s breath grew to the sigh of a gentle breeze. ‘Think! What ’s been going on here?’
Tess took in the shattered equipment, the broken glass, the torn wire, the overturned boxes and crates. ‘Uh ... science like how it shouldn’t be done?’
‘Teresa!’ Lyle beamed at her.
‘Wha’?’
‘For a moment you actually sounded as though you had a decent grounding in laboratory procedure!’ He saw her deliberately blank expression, and sighed. ‘Never mind. All right, it ’s a laboratory, for studying . . . oh, look!’ With an expression of delight he picked up an object that to Tess looked for all the world like a glass squid. ‘I’ve been trying to get one of these for years!’
‘What’s that?’
‘You use it for the crystallization of leached potassium nitrate from . . . certain waste products.’
Tess’s eyes narrowed. ‘What . . . waste products ?’
‘Well . . . you know . . .’ The tips of Lyle’s ears
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