The plans and blueprints Aubrey had for these machines were cunningly concealed in the maps in the rear of a Green Guide tourist book. Harmless to look at, just the sort of thing a visitor to the city would be expected to have, the pages had been magically treated using a selective application of the Law of Affinity. With the correct activating words, parts of the maps would fade – or disappear entirely. The remaining lines and text showed the plan needed to construct the shielding device. Another uttering of the activating words would restore the map to its innocent original state.
All that was left was to find and purchase the necessary components.
Or the components to the components, Aubrey thought as he locked the front door of the factory.
Wandering into a shop and asking for a dozen harmonic valves was likely to cause gossip, even if he could find a place that sold such esoteric items. No, he had to construct many of the components from scratch and apply the needed spells in the correct sequence while he was doing so.
The market was Aubrey’s first port of call. The Divodorum town square was bustling and crowded, noisy and colourful as stallholders hawked their wares while shoppers scrutinised and occasionally bought them.
Aubrey found a row of stalls offering a surprising array of technical items amid the plumbing necessities and ironmongery. He bought copper wire, insulating material, some small vials of mercury and as much bell metal as he could find. The stall owner was keen to assist Aubrey, and packaged everything in good brown paper, where appropriate, and stowed the rest in a hessian bag. Aubrey swung the bag over his shoulder, gazed at the vigorous commerce of the market, and took stock.
He assumed that uniforms weren’t uncommon in Divodorum, given the vicinity of the fortress, but he wondered if the town had seen as many soldiers and airmen as were currently present. Twice on his way to the market he’d had to wait while columns of troops marched through the streets, accompanied by rumbling lorries laden with artillery and – just as importantly – provisions. The amount of provisioning gave Aubrey pause. It showed that someone somewhere was thinking ahead, either to enormous numbers of troops, or to a time when provisions may not be so easily obtained.
Neither option was reassuring.
When Aubrey returned to the factory, Caroline hadn’t returned but George was in the yard, unloading a wagon.
‘Flour, George?’ he said as he approached his friend. He carefully put his bag on a rack just inside the large double doors. ‘Butter? Cabbages?’
‘Just the ticket,’ George said and with a grunt he heaved a crate off the back of the wagon. ‘Don’t stand back, old man, lend a hand. I have to get this wagon back in an hour.’
‘Vinegar, George? And what’s that? Olive oil?’
‘Just being efficient, old man. We’re likely to be holed up here for some time, correct?’
‘That’s one possibility.’
‘So I thought that meals might be a problem.’
‘Or we could go hungry.’
George looked as if he’d suggested painting themselves blue and dancing through the streets as a way of remaining clandestine. ‘Go hungry? Have you had a blow on the head or something? Go hungry? Can’t have that.’
‘So I see.’
‘The factory has a kitchen – I’m sure you hardly noticed – and I’ve purchased some basic cooking equipment, some wood for the stove and now, the food.’
Aubrey thought of the lorries taking provisions to the fortress. ‘You know, George, I think this may be a very good idea. You’ll do the cooking?’
‘Of course, old man. Ah, here’s Caroline!’
Caroline glided toward them on her bicycle, the front basket of which was stacked so high that Aubrey was worried about her being able to see. He caught the handlebars as she came to a halt. ‘Thank you, Aubrey. Can you take that topmost box before it falls?’
‘Successful shopping?’
‘It’s a good start, and I happened to find out something very interesting. Two Holmland agents have been arrested.’
A chill. ‘Any details?’
‘They were both long-time residents of Divodorum. They had wireless equipment in their houses.’
Aubrey held Caroline’s parcel in his fingertips, balanced. Long-time residents meant that Holmland security had been active for some time preparing for war.
It was a reminder, even though none was needed, of the seriousness of their position.
Seven days of hard work resulted in a secret Albion security base that Aubrey was confident would be suitable for even the pickiest of remote sensers.
He stood in front of the factory in the late afternoon sun, hands on hips. He wiped the sweat away from his forehead and appraised their work objectively.
It was good. And, he thought, with a little more work, it could operate even if Divodorum were overrun by the Holmlanders.
While this wasn’t the primary function of such a base, Aubrey knew that such a thing was in the minds of the top brass in Albion – small bands of independent operatives, working behind the lines to make life hard for Holmland occupiers. It would be a dangerous, tense life, and Aubrey hoped it would never come to that – but he couldn’t deny that such a challenge appealed.
Caroline’s wireless post was secured behind a false wall on the ground floor. The remote sensing facility was in the basement, where George had constructed bunks as well as the monitoring and recording booths, right near Aubrey’s tiny encoding office, where he’d work with the compact ciphering machine. The armoury, double-locked and bolted, was set into the floor of Aubrey’s office, a masterpiece of George’s joinery work.
Sleeping quarters took up the end of the basement away from the remote sensing area. Side by side, divided by neat walls George had erected, each small, private area was spartan, just big enough for a small pallet, with a curtain to screen the straw mattress from the main basement area.
George had also managed some clever electricity theft, organising a hidden connection from a power company cable that ran along the river bank. It meant that if the worst came to the worst, the factory could be boarded up and would give every appearance of being another abandoned building in an area full of vacant premises.
At the moment, it wasn’t necessary to be so clandestine. The factory looked just as it was – a facility being renovated, getting ready for new use.
The makeshift shielding was also operating well. The devices Aubrey had sweated over were located precisely about the building. From a distance, he hoped, no magician would notice anything untoward about the factory. Aubrey had tested it, and not a trace of magic leaked through the walls.
That evening, Major Saltin joined them for supper and informed them that his status had changed. ‘I am now in charge of the ground crew here at Divodorum,’ he announced over a hearty chicken and red wine casserole. ‘I will continue to be your liaison.’
‘How long?’ Aubrey asked.
‘Won’t you miss flying?’ Caroline asked.
Major Saltin shrugged. ‘Months, my orders said. It will be a trial, being so earthbound.’ He speared a potato. ‘But not if the food is always this good. My compliments to the chef.’
‘I’m glad you liked it,’ George said, ‘since it was your chicken. Where did you get it?’
‘Friends.’ Major Saltin beamed. ‘I have many friends.’
Caroline touched her lips with a napkin. ‘I should be able to send a message tonight. If you’re ready, Aubrey.’
‘What time tonight?’
‘After midnight. Transmission is easier once the sun has gone down.’