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“I just might.”

Chapter Fourteen

Nyssa sat on the edge of a slowly widening hole in the floor and wiped her brow. She’d managed the delicate work of removing any live wires, but a big metal pipe still blocked her way.

“How’s it going?” Hart asked.

She glanced up. The computer had been quiet for the last hour or so, though he gave her occasional reports on Rivera’s and Aito’s movements.

“Good. Hopefully this won’t take much longer. Just this last pipe and a layer of plaster in the way.” She poked around her satchel for a tool strong enough to cut through metal. “Once I get through to the next floor, I should be able to sneak out of the manor. They will think I’m still in here, if I’m quiet enough, so it won’t be that hard to evade them.”

“You’ll need to be careful.”

“I’ve done daylight burglaries once or twice.” She smiled. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“When you get out of the manor, then what?” His tone was somber.

She tilted her head. “Find Ellis, I guess. Then we’ll plan how to get back in here for you. Rivera’s broken several laws. If we can convince the New Taured police to go after him instead of me, we can get him out of the way, and we’ll be free to claim you.”

“Do you really want to bother, though?”

Nyssa’s brow furrowed. “Of course. Hart, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just … when Ellis called, your whole countenance changed.” His monitor dimmed. “Nyss, you light up for him in a way you don’t for me. Why would you want a cheap copy of the man you love hanging around you when you have the real thing?”

“Hart, it’s not like that. Even I admit, I’m not exactly sure what you are or how a computer can be so human without actually being human, but you’ve proven over and over again that there is more to you than simple programming.” She came to stand before him. Her own reflection smiled back at her from his screen. “That electric heart of yours is real somehow. I’m not going to leave you behind again.”

“Even you know I’m not really him. For one thing, you still call me Hart, not Ellis.”

“Well, calling you Ellis would just be confusing.” She chuckled.

“And what do you think Ellis will have to say about my existence?”

Nyssa shrugged. “He’ll probably find you fascinating. He may want to pick your brain about your programming … oh sparks and shocks, Ellis having a conversation with himself … that’ll be hilarious.”

Hart laughed, but still in a minor key.

Her heart twisting, Nyssa turned back to her project. “This is a heavy duty pipe. No electrical field. What do the house plans say this one is?”

“I’m not certain,” Hart said. “That must’ve been added in during Rivera’s renovations because it’s not on the original plans. Best guess? It’s the drain from that new washroom he added in. It’s kind of coming from that general direction.”

“Well, if no one is using the washroom, the pipe should be mostly dry. I can cut it.” She dug through the professor’s tool closet. “Ah ha!” She triumphantly withdrew a long-handled pipe-cutter. After clamping it in place around the pipe, she gave the handle a twist. The pipe moaned, buckled, then exploded in a burst of steam. Nyssa fell onto her rump. “Shock me!”

A geyser of steam hissed from the pipe. Blast! Not a drain pipe.

She crawled forward, trying to avoid the scalding vapor. Her peacoat lay nearby, so she snatched it up and wrapped it around the pipe. Thankfully, it was only a small crack. After she tied the coat into a knot, the steam dissipated.

She shook her head. “Huh … now what? Maybe try a few feet over … but blast, that’s almost as bad as starting from scratch.” I could try to clamp down on the pipe to keep the steam from escaping, but if it backs up with too much pressure it could flat out explode in my face.

“Looks like Rivera’s got a guest. Someone just came in the front, but I don’t recognize him.”

“I’m sure it’s just another of his henchmen.” Nyssa sorted through her tools, looking for inspiration.

“I doubt it. He’s in a wheelchair.”

Nyssa’s blood turned to ice water. “What? Show me?”

Hart switched his view to an image of the foyer. The video was from across the room, but she’d recognize him anywhere.

“Ellis, what are you thinking?” she whispered. “Please, please be careful.”

***

Ellis wheeled into his father’s study—Rivera’s study now, he supposed. Memories ranging from pleasant to horrific flitted through his brain. He tried to force them quiet, to concentrate on the mission, but the familiar setting wouldn't allow it.

The gas lamps glowed over the same wood paneling and high ceilings that he remembered from his boyhood, though the carpeting was different. Rivera had replaced Professor Dalhart’s old fashioned, simple furniture with more stylish modern pieces, one of them a dark leather arm chair where Rivera sat, smiling at him.

The door shut behind him with an ominous click. Ellis tried to ignore his pounding pulse. This isn’t a suicide mission. I’m going to get what I need, wait for O’Hara’s signal, then get out alive.

Rivera leaned forward, his hands clasped atop his ebony cane. “You look well. I’d heard a rumor you’d been in an accident.”

Ellis shrugged. “Minor inconvenience. Though someone owes my lawyer a new steam car.” The metal of O’Hara’s police-issue recording device felt cold against his skin. It was all he could do not to reach up and touch it through his shirt.

Steady. All I need is to get him to admit to something illegal. Kidnapping, attempted murder … I’d take tax evasion at this point, as long as it sends him to jail.

“So, to get the obvious out of the way, you’re alive.” Rivera settled back comfortably, his legs crossed. “How’d you manage that?”

“My father was mad, but his intent was always to improve my life. He went out of his way to keep me breathing,

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