Free Time of Trial by Michael Pryor Page A

Albion seems like a more comfortable place,’ George said. ‘So if you’re not spying, what’s your game?’
    Von Stralick rubbed his gloved hands together. ‘Importing and exporting. A bit of this, a bit of that, I think the saying goes.’
    â€˜Nice and nebulous,’ Aubrey said. ‘Good-looking suit. Barber and Sons?’
    â€˜It is. I’m glad you like it.’
    â€˜A Barber and Sons suit means that you’re not short for money.’
    â€˜Importing and exporting is doing well, in these troublesome times.’
    Caroline sighed. ‘Can you two finish posturing soon? Then we can move on to more important matters.’
    â€˜Such as the most dangerous man alive,’ Aubrey muttered. The others looked at him. ‘Sorry if it sounds melodramatic, but it’s probably true. Someone who is dedicated to plunging the world into war, just to fuel his magical efforts at personal immortality? Sounds dangerous to me.’
    â€˜I agree,’ Kiefer said. ‘He must be stopped.’
    â€˜How?’ George said. ‘Easier said than done, it seems to me.’
    â€˜Flush him out,’ Caroline said. ‘Lure him to Albion and take him.’
    Von Stralick lifted an eyebrow. ‘Extraordinary.’
    Caroline bristled. ‘What do you mean?’
    â€˜Remember who we’re talking about, Miss Hepworth. The most dangerous man alive and you want to confront him? Most people spend their waking hours hoping to avoid him.’
    â€˜We choose the place, the time, not him,’ Aubrey said, picking up Caroline’s suggestion. Slowly an idea was beginning to take form. ‘Every other meeting we’ve had has been because of his planning. He’s been prepared, with multiple escape routes, with backup resources. Let’s turn the tables so that we’re the ones who have traps within traps.’
    Von Stralick sat back in his chair. ‘You know, I think you could do this. At least, that’s what the reports said.’
    â€˜Reports?’ Aubrey said.
    â€˜Tremaine circulated a number of reports about the affair in Lutetia, then the failed plot to destroy your economy. He drew attention to you, particularly. He noted you as a potential threat, strategically and magically.’
    For a moment, Aubrey felt absurdly pleased. Then he realised it may help to explain the attention he was receiving from Dr Tremaine.
    The room suddenly felt much more exposed than it was.
    A figure stood at the doorway. Once again, all heads turned in the direction of the newcomer – even Kiefer’s, and he brightened noticeably. He stood and waved. ‘Professor Glauber! Over here!’
    Aubrey swung around to see a short, pear-shaped man rolling towards them. He wore round spectacles and had a peculiar, waddling gait, as if his shoes were much too long for his feet. His long, black coat hung to his knees and was buttoned to the neck. He wore black gloves. Several coffee drinkers hailed him as he passed, but he didn’t respond, leaving a string of puzzled Holmlanders in his wake.
    Despite Kiefer’s entreaties, Professor Glauber didn’t come to their table. He stopped and stared, making waiters edge around him. Aubrey shifted uneasily; he had the distinct impression that he was the object of the professor’s scrutiny. Then, without a word or change of expression, Professor Glauber veered off and made for the far corner of the room, where a telephone was attached to the wall.
    Kiefer sank, baffled. ‘He must be busy.’
    â€˜Metallurgical crisis, no doubt,’ George said. ‘Happens when you least expect it, I imagine.’
    Kiefer crossed his arms and did his best to look confident. ‘When he’s done, he’ll tell you what happened.’
    Aubrey studied the mysterious professor as he spoke into the telephone. The conversation was mostly on the other side, but the professor did glance constantly toward Kiefer,