Dangerous Science

By Sidney Swann

Dedicated scientist Gladys DeWalt is a rising star in a Victorian community of scholars and explorers influenced as much by politics as discovery. So when her highly touted mission to excavate a legendary shipwreck ends in devastating failure, the Council of Scholars deals her another devastating blow.

Stripped of her title, she's demoted to status of Intellectual Ward and placed under the authority of Sebastian Cromwell, a former professor she remembers as stern and exacting. Gladys feared Cromwell as a student, and fears him more since his accident and transformation as part automaton by rogue scientist Nigel Longbridge. Cromwell may look and function like a man, but he's as cold and clinical as the gears under his skin. He takes Gladys on to settle an old debt, but informs her from the outset that he will not brook any disobedience or disrespect. When Gladys defies him, she is punished.

But under Cromwell's stern demeanor is the lingering shadow of humanity, and as the dashing automaton comes to admire his ward's intelligence and drive, he begins to question what really caused her mission's failure.What he discovers will shake the Council of Scholars to its core and give Gladys a chance to redeem her name and win the love of a man who thought he was now beyond emotional connection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blushing
• Release date: May 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781627503488

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Dangerous Science

By

Sidney Swann

copyright 2014 by Blushing Books and Sidney Swann

Published by Blushing Books at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Swann, Sidney

Dangerous Science

eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-3488

Cover Art by Owlight Designs

This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the memory of Tasha Tudor, who taught us that art and imagination combine to make the perfect time machine.

Table of Contents:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Blushing Books

Chapter One

She’d expected to return victorious.

As she walked up the aisle, she found her mind returning to those rare nights during the expedition when her first mate had convinced her to get some sleep. Gladys would lie in her bunk, thinking of returning to this very room. As the metal around her had groaned and popped its mechanical lullaby, she’d drift off to the fantasy of how she’d confidently face the Council of Scholars – triumphant - as hundreds of sets of eyes watched in admiration and envy.

How different this was - how perversely contrary - returning in defeat.

It took all her effort to hold her head high. She tried to focus on the members of the council. There was Reubens, who’d voted against commissioning her. His smug look stung, but not so much as the stricken look of her longtime mentor and advocate Dr. Hadley Jenkins. His reputation had rested on her slim shoulders.

Gladys dropped her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the expressions of the others. But she could still feel one of them. The disdain emanating from her benefactor, Miriam Beckworth, was palpable. And withering.

Gladys stepped up to the rostrum, its intricate woodwork gleaming and rich with history. She wasn’t the first scientist to stand here. Others had come before her to report to this council and preceding ones. Had things gone as she’d promised, knowing that she was standing where Granville and Postman and Hargrove had once stood would have emphasized her achievement. That those esteemed scholars had looked up from this spot to report on successful discoveries or expeditions now made her failure seem all the more acute.

How?

It was just one word, delivered so harshly that it seemed to ricochet through the wood-paneled room. Miriam Beckworth did not like it when she lost money. With Gladys, she’d lost big.

I take responsibility…. Gladys began, looking up at the council’s chief benefactor. Miriam Beckworth’s eyes were like two blue chips of ice in a face that was unnaturally smooth for a woman in her fifty-fourth year. It was widely rumored that Doctor Hargrove’s last expedition to the Amazon had yielded a mineral compound that reversed the aging of skin. It was also rumored that Miriam Beckworth had no intention of sharing the discovery with the world.

As you should, she was saying, titling her chin so that the glow from one of the gaslights glinted off the brooch pinned to the high collar of her gown. "You were leading the expedition, Dr. DeWalt. A leader always accepts responsibility, but it will take more than a mea culpa to satisfy the council. We want answers, girl! Now!"

Somewhere, a male colleague tittered in amusement.

Gladys felt her face grow warm, and knew the flush of anger would be evident on her pale skin. She wanted to lash out at her benefactor, to demand an apology for the humiliating verbal demotion. It was no mistake on Miriam Beckworth’s part, juxtaposing the title of doctor with the disparagement of girl. It was the way of the upper class to punish scholars who let them down, to remind them that Money – not Knowledge – was the real power.

I misread the schematics, Gladys explained. I had studied the chart, devoted the last five years to unraveling its mysteries. I… Her eyes darted to Dr. Jenkins. He looked tired, defeated and sad. He nodded almost imperceptibly, as if to acknowledge that he alone knew all Gladys had done to decipher the scroll. She looked away before again turning to continue addressing the council.

"I was sure that we were traveling well north of the Ragmar Trenches. My calculations had us at least five leagues away, and within range of where I’d estimated The Four Sisters to rest."

And there was no indication that you were near the trenches?

Gladys grew quiet. Her first impulse was to lie. Who would know? Those who saw the signs were dead. The survivors were all technicians or sailors who only occasionally glanced out of the portholes. Only she and Elliot had noticed the absence of the tall undersea plants the scroll had mentioned. They’d looked at one another, both knowing instantly that she’d taken them off course. Below them was just darkness and silt. By the time they’d turned the ship around it had been too late.

Yes, she replied woodenly. I could tell by the sea floor that we were off course … perilously off course. Dr. McDonald and I were recalculating when it hit us.

She closed her eyes now, remembering the look of panic on her colleague’s face as his body slammed against the interior cabin wall. I’m sorry Elliot.

If I may… Dr. John Reubens leaned forward, his moist lips pursed under his thin moustache. Gladys…

Dr. DeWalt, if you please, she corrected him. Gladys could not help herself. She owed this man nothing. If he was going to gloat, she wouldn’t make it easy for him.

"Doctor DeWalt, he said, coating the first word with sarcasm. What was the one consistent warning about this expedition? What was the one chief concern, the one thing we emphasized over and over that you avoid? Remind us, Doctor. Humor us, if you will…."

The Ragmar Trenches, but…

There are no ‘buts,’ DeWalt, he thundered. "Good men are dead because of you! You assured us that your research was solid, that your readings of the scroll had yielded a direct path to the Four Sisters well clear of the trench and the creatures that destroyed both that ancient ship and now yours as well! Now half your crew is lost, the treasure still remains on the ocean floor and this council is left with nothing to show for it!" He leaned back in his chair, an expression of satisfaction crossing his face.

Yes, Gladys was no longer able to contain her anger. "And yet you sit there fighting back a smile, Dr. Reubens, she said, using the same sarcastic emphasis on his title as she had on his. This whole process has been political, and while I admit that my error led to a tragedy that will haunt me forever, I can honestly say that if the shoe were on the other foot, I’d hardly take pleasure in a colleague’s failure, especially when lives have been lost."

Now it was John Reubens whose face reddened. You misspeak! he sputtered.

ENOUGH! Professor Laurel Singh was the quietest member of the council, but as The Chair, when she spoke, everyone listened, even Miriam Beckworth.

I will not have this discussion degenerate into ugliness, she said. Crewmembers are dead, a vessel lost. Doctor DeWalt has accepted responsibility for the disastrous outcome of this mission. In her defense, missions fail; that is the risk of science. She glanced over at their benefactor. Even unnecessary science.

The older woman’s eyes shot daggers at the council chair. No one had ever come this close to saying what everyone knew - that this expedition was more about a claim to treasure than any actual science. It was true that the Four Sisters was a legendary craft, but beyond artifacts no advancement to mankind would have been gained by plundering its wealth.

However, Singh continued. Because we were assured repeatedly by Doctor DeWalt that she was not just sure, but one hundred percent sure, that she had successfully recreated the Archimedes Map from the scroll, her failure in this mission does have consequences. Her soft brown eyes fell on Gladys. You’ve lost our trust, Dr. DeWalt, you realize that.

Yes, Professor, Gladys said.

And you understand that trust is something that must be regained, and that the process in the face of such a failure will be slow and tedious…

Gladys could not answer. She could only nod as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

I make a motion, said Professor Singh, that Doctor DeWalt be stripped of her title as Scientific Commander for the Council of Archaeological and Anthropological Acquisitions and that she be demoted to Scientist First Class.

Scientist First Class? Miriam Beckwith’s tone was incredulous. Are you serious? She has all but broken us financially.

She’s broken the council, Ma’am, not you, Professor Singh said levelly. Unless you’re telling us that you’re pulling support.

The two women faced each other. They were at a draw. Professor Singh and the council needed Miriam Beckworth’s money, but Miriam Beckworth needed them just as much. There were other councils, but none so studied and none so populated by such great minds. Finally, the council’s benefactor looked away. Gladys’ fate was now in her colleagues’ hands.

The huge clock above them ticked, the gears visible through a gap. Gladys looked up and was reminded of the gleaming metal submersible she’d piloted, of how proud she and Elliot had been as they’d broken a bottle of champagne on its riveted hull just hours before departing on their mission. Elliot, with his boyish grin and natural genius, had been discovered among the dead when the battered submarine had finally limped to the surface.

May I propose a compromise? John Reubens voice was smooth honey as he spoke. Gladys had known the man long enough to know this was not a good sign.

Technically, Dr. DeWalt could be brought up on charges of endangerment, he said. "I mean, I wouldn’t do it, of course, but if the council is deemed culpable we could lose our credibility and open ourselves up for legal action. We could be held personally liable for the losses of the crew. Already the press mutters." He rose to his feet and pulled at his moustache, as if pondering what to do. Gladys glanced at Hadley