deeper, something more sinister, and his conscience kept him from her as he tried to understand exactly what she’d been hiding.
She’d not tell her father her suspicions, that Roddy had deciphered their behaviors and understood there was something coming, something big, something… decidedly unpleasant. Where she would worry about Roddy derailing things in a way she never could, where she’d even feel a sense of pride that her husband had cracked the mystery… Oswald would see a threat.
Roddy, resourceful though he might be, wouldn’t survive Oswald’s mild discomfort.
She wondered if she ought to go to Roddy now, tell him everything, and see if he could stop events at this late hour. Oswald told her it was impossible. She’d accepted that assessment and had done the part she’d agreed to perform. Roddy wouldn’t, though. Roddy would find a way. In fact, she would call him—
She jumped at the sound of the knock at the door, breathing heavily as her pulse raced. She took a quick breath to steady herself as she looked at the clock. It was time to meet with her chief researcher. “Come in,” she called. Her voice was firm and authoritative.
Her chief researcher entered the room, and she caught her breath. He reminded her of Roddy in his ability to dominate a room with his mere presence. Where Roddy’s presence derived from his physical prowess and intensity, this man exuded a powerful aura of charm and charisma.
He favored her with a radiant smile. “Mrs. Light. I do hope I’m not late.”
She shook her head, hoping the movement might distort the temporary flush in her cheeks. “Punctual, as always.”
He closed the door behind him. Deirdre opened the top drawer of her desk and found the two separate grooves that matched the shape of her index fingers and place the pads of her fingers in the grooves.
Moments later, the bookshelf to her right shifted, and she heard the faint sound of locks disengaging.
Books older than current history lined those shelves, a fact few people knew. Most believed her collection to be one of pure aesthetics, a reminder to think of the reputed accomplishments of the ancients and seek similar advances. While she appreciated the symbolism—and encouraged the speculation—the books were in fact copies of the physical, paper books once popular on the planet. The words within were lifted directly from a publicly redacted library found in the Time Capsule. Here, on her wall, sat proof of the conspiracy blocking full distribution of the Time Capsule’s secrets.
No one paid attention, though. Roddy had paused once, ran a finger down the weathered spines, before turning away. Secrets were best hidden in the open where seekers never looked.
Sheila moved to the bookshelf, joined by her researcher. She put her hands on two separate books on an upper shelf, as far as she could reach, and pulled both toward her simultaneously. The floor moved, sliding to her right, as the shelf separated from the larger office wall, spinning them at a steady pace to a point behind the wall. Were anyone to enter her office at this moment, they’d still see a bookshelf lined with ancient printed books. The titles were identical, save for the two used to activate the rotation. Her father would know her location in an instant.
The walls and bookshelf were both fully soundproofed, and they entered the large laboratory confident that any noises made inside would never reach the outside world.
“I’ve tested each of the prototypes as you’ve requested, Mrs. Light.” The man noted charts and checklists affixed to a drafting table near the bookshelf door. “My summary of the results are found there, and the printed binders of the detailed tests and observations may be located on fixed shelves near the entry.”
She nodded, glancing at the test materials.
She’d told Roddy a partial truth that morning. Her team had secretly reconstituted the formula for Diasteel, creating a material that retained the
She’d not tell her father her suspicions, that Roddy had deciphered their behaviors and understood there was something coming, something big, something… decidedly unpleasant. Where she would worry about Roddy derailing things in a way she never could, where she’d even feel a sense of pride that her husband had cracked the mystery… Oswald would see a threat.
Roddy, resourceful though he might be, wouldn’t survive Oswald’s mild discomfort.
She wondered if she ought to go to Roddy now, tell him everything, and see if he could stop events at this late hour. Oswald told her it was impossible. She’d accepted that assessment and had done the part she’d agreed to perform. Roddy wouldn’t, though. Roddy would find a way. In fact, she would call him—
She jumped at the sound of the knock at the door, breathing heavily as her pulse raced. She took a quick breath to steady herself as she looked at the clock. It was time to meet with her chief researcher. “Come in,” she called. Her voice was firm and authoritative.
Her chief researcher entered the room, and she caught her breath. He reminded her of Roddy in his ability to dominate a room with his mere presence. Where Roddy’s presence derived from his physical prowess and intensity, this man exuded a powerful aura of charm and charisma.
He favored her with a radiant smile. “Mrs. Light. I do hope I’m not late.”
She shook her head, hoping the movement might distort the temporary flush in her cheeks. “Punctual, as always.”
He closed the door behind him. Deirdre opened the top drawer of her desk and found the two separate grooves that matched the shape of her index fingers and place the pads of her fingers in the grooves.
Moments later, the bookshelf to her right shifted, and she heard the faint sound of locks disengaging.
Books older than current history lined those shelves, a fact few people knew. Most believed her collection to be one of pure aesthetics, a reminder to think of the reputed accomplishments of the ancients and seek similar advances. While she appreciated the symbolism—and encouraged the speculation—the books were in fact copies of the physical, paper books once popular on the planet. The words within were lifted directly from a publicly redacted library found in the Time Capsule. Here, on her wall, sat proof of the conspiracy blocking full distribution of the Time Capsule’s secrets.
No one paid attention, though. Roddy had paused once, ran a finger down the weathered spines, before turning away. Secrets were best hidden in the open where seekers never looked.
Sheila moved to the bookshelf, joined by her researcher. She put her hands on two separate books on an upper shelf, as far as she could reach, and pulled both toward her simultaneously. The floor moved, sliding to her right, as the shelf separated from the larger office wall, spinning them at a steady pace to a point behind the wall. Were anyone to enter her office at this moment, they’d still see a bookshelf lined with ancient printed books. The titles were identical, save for the two used to activate the rotation. Her father would know her location in an instant.
The walls and bookshelf were both fully soundproofed, and they entered the large laboratory confident that any noises made inside would never reach the outside world.
“I’ve tested each of the prototypes as you’ve requested, Mrs. Light.” The man noted charts and checklists affixed to a drafting table near the bookshelf door. “My summary of the results are found there, and the printed binders of the detailed tests and observations may be located on fixed shelves near the entry.”
She nodded, glancing at the test materials.
She’d told Roddy a partial truth that morning. Her team had secretly reconstituted the formula for Diasteel, creating a material that retained the
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