Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences Read Free Page A

dragonfly the size of her whole palm, with tiny buttons and screws and wires, iridescent and incredible. She peered at the curious device with great joy, looking at all its special knobs and fine wire mesh. It must be priceless. This stranger must place a great deal of trust in her with something so precious. Bettina’s heart swelled with excitement and purpose.
    “You will use this to record and bring significant data as soon as you are able. Two days at the most, we don’t loan equipment for long. And don’t even think about selling it. We’ve ways to track you down.”
    Bettina nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of it!”
    “Good.”
    Bettina bit her lip. This was as good a time to ask as any, though she didn’t want to press Mrs Marsh’s amazing welcome. “Tonight, though, Mrs Marsh, could you be so kind as to advise me where should I... stay?”
    “Ah yes, that. Well it’s probably best for the safety of the device for you to return it here. I’ll leave the back door open for you and you alone. And here’s how.”
    Mrs Marsh moved to one of the writing desks and picked up a handheld implement that appeared to be a cross between a stamping press and a pair of pliers and returned to Bettina. In the instant, the woman had Bettina’s index finger in her hand. The vice clamped down upon the finger and Bettina loosed a resounding: “Ow!”
    “There now, all done,” Mrs Marsh said. “Touch that finger to the small metal oval on the back door, the one in the alley beyond, and it will unlock for you and only you.”
    Bettina stared at her reddened finger, then back at Mrs Marsh. “This place does try one’s belief.”
    Mrs Marsh laughed. “This is just the beginning, child. When you come in for the night, keep to that back room. I’ll set up a palette by the coal furnace. It isn’t much for accommodations, but it’ll be warm and dry. I dare not move you upstairs, not while Mr Books is here.”
    “Is he really so terrible?” Bettina asked.
    “A monster,” Mrs Marsh grinned, evincing Bettina’s smile in turn. “A tedious, meticulous, librarian . Utterly unbearable.” The women chuckled a moment before Mrs Marsh recovered herself as if she ought not be seen smiling. “I just don’t want His Eminence’s lip, as I’m straying far from protocol. We don’t... take folks in.” Mrs Marsh smoothed her jacket with a slightly nervous gesture, her fingers fussing about the hem.
    “And I promise I’ll find a way to repay your generosity,” Bettina promised. Mrs Marsh gave her a fond smile before shooing her towards the door.
    “Now off with you.”
    Bettina looked at the device in her hand, then at the door, then back to the woman. “But…how do I use this...?”
    “Why, you press the button and hold it towards the phenomena you wish to record, of course,” Marsh said, moving forward to press the thorax of the dragonfly on a little iridescent panel. In response, the delicate filigree metal wings flapped and a whisper-soft whine came from the device that was as much mechanical creature as property. The little antennae of the device shifted from side to side and one small, bluish light the size of a pinhead lit up upon its middle and then went out again.
    Mrs Marsh’s eyes went wide a moment before her expression again regained stoic neutrality.
    “How do I know how to interpret what its doing?” Bettina asked, entranced by the movement of the device.
    “However many lights will determine, give or take one, the amount of presences near you. We’ve made all our various recording devices look more like fine toys than equipment so as not to disturb or make the subjects suspect. Once the whole of its panels have lit with as many lights as it has in its system, then it will go back to one and begin counting again. When you return we’ll attach the dragonfly to one of our readers and the little beauty will tell us the other factors; temperature, humidity, atmospheric conditions, et cetera.”
    “Do I have