Phoenix Rising by Pip Ballantine Read Free Book Online

Welly,” her voice barked, causing him to start, “did you know this was in here?”
    Wellington and Doctor Sound turned to Braun who now rested the chestnut box along her forearm. The soft glow coming from the gemstones seemed to dance in the agent’s eyes, and the wider she smiled the brighter the glow became. Her fingers gently stroked the blood-red gems that brightened at her feather-touch. They both heard her sigh of admiration and wonder reverberate around them.
    Quickly following the snap of the portfolio’s closing came the snap of the jewelry box’s lid. If Wellington had taken a fingertip or two of the colonial’s, then so be it.
    â€œAnd there is your first lesson, Agent Braun, in handling that which no one understands!” bit Wellington, not even bothering to keep his voice calm. “This,” he said, motioning to the necklace case, “was the instigator of the crimes. Agent Atkins was able to trace the perpetrator’s source of dark magic to this heirloom, the Necklace of le Fay.”
    â€œLe Fay?” Braun snorted. “As in Morgane le Fay? The Saucy Trollop from Avalon, Morgane le Fay?!” Her laugh cut through him. “Oh come off it, mate. There was no such person!”
    â€œPerhaps, Agent Braun, you should get down to the Archives more often,” Wellington huffed just before replacing the necklace back into the basket. With a few keystrokes and clickety-clacks , the items disappeared into the darkness above them, back into their rightful place within the stacks. “I’m sure in the field an assignment ends once you file the final report, but if you ever were curious as to what happened to your spoils of war and battle, they end up here in the Ministry Archives. Here, items are catalogued, sorted, and stored until that operation arises wherein you will need logistics. And while there may be more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Agent Braun, I assure you there are things far more wondrous-strange here in the Archives.”
    Braun chuckled. “All right then, if we can’t play with your toys here in the basement, Welly, why not this?” she quipped, rapping a knuckle against the Archives’ access terminal. “Why are the agents not granted this resource? This difference engine, connected to these remote terminals in such a fashion— fantastic ! How is this powered?” she asked.
    Wellington patted the brick wall beside him. “You know of the Thames?”
    â€œUnlimited power.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Those tinkers are so bloody clever.”
    Now he really didn’t like her. “I beg your pardon?”
    â€œResearch and Design. Their imagination knows no boundaries, does it?”
    Wellington felt a sudden twinge in his neck.
    â€œField Agent Braun,” he began, his voice quivering lightly, “firstly, this is not a difference engine. It can do a bit more than mathematics. This is an analytical engine, based off Babbage’s original schematics with a few enhancements of my own. Second, I am well aware your ilk rarely visit my Archives, and that you tap into this Ministry resource only when and if the need arises. The last resort, I believe one of your colleagues referred to me as. So you would have not known that this analytical engine and its connected terminals are devices of my design and implementation, apart from the fact that, unlike many of the prototypes fabricated by Research and Design, it works. ”
    â€œWell now,” piped in Doctor Sound, “it seems this rather overdue visit to your Archives is serving several plagues of the Ministry.”
    The Director’s timing was impeccable as his words fell on the final stanza of Bach’s concerto.
    Drip . . .
    Drip . . .
    Drip . . .
    â€œI’m sorry,” Wellington said, his voice seeming quite loud to himself. “Plagues?”
    â€œYes, Agent