"No!" I whispered, for I dreaded what might happen. Even if she avoided the slavering phantasm, the sparking electrical cables and stray bolts of red lightning would end her life for certain. But the spirit held me in its gaze, and I found I could not move a muscle.
Roberta let out a great cry as she raised the sledgehammer above her head, and I guessed then that she was about to charge. The spirit turned its deadly gaze upon her, and I knew with stone cold certainty that she would be dead in seconds. Even as she faced the thing, it stretched out its hands to her, willing her into its embrace.
However, in turning to her, the spirit had released me. Freed of the mental bonds, I was on the point of charging it myself, but I knew that would end in my own death as well as Roberta's. Instead, desperate now, I cast about me. My gaze fell on the original strips of infused metal which Roberta had discarded. I retrieved them with a cry of triumph, drawing my arm back and hurling the first piece directly at the spinning attractor machine.
I missed.
In despair, I watched the bent piece of metal strike the wall and spin away, landing harmlessly on the floor. Meanwhile, Roberta had begun her charge, and was already halfway across the cellar with the raised sledgehammer at the ready.
I threw the second piece of metal, willing it towards the target. This time it grazed the machine before slamming into the wall, and I heard the ringing noise above the hiss of steam and the rumble of machinery. By now Roberta was almost upon the phantom, and I knew I had but one chance remaining.
I drew my arm back, sighted, and hurled that piece of metal harder than I had ever thrown anything in my entire life. My arm near popped from its socket, and the momentum bent me double until I was looking down at the floor. I heard a clang, and then an unholy scream rent the air. I looked up, praying it was not Roberta, and to my delight I saw she was unharmed. The spirit though… now that was another matter. My throw had lodged the piece of metal into the very middle of the attractor machine, shattering the glowing crystal and jamming the orange-segment shape so that it spun no more. The red lightning ceased, and the dark, purplish light was being drawn back into the device as though acted upon by a powerful force. As for the spirit itself, it was no longer menacing us, but instead desperately clawing at the air as it strove to maintain its place in our world. It was failing, and the more it was drawn back into the broken machine, the more it screamed and wailed in anger and frustration. The noise set my hair on end, and I tossed aside the last remaining piece of metal and clamped my hands over my ears.
Then, after a brief flash of light, the terrifying spectre was gone. The sparking cables were now lifeless, and lay flat on the workbench. The machine smouldered gently, with no signs of the purple light nor deadly bolts of lightning.
That final explosion had thrown Roberta to the floor, and I hurried over with my heart in my mouth. Fortunately, she was only winded, and I helped her to sit up, supporting her weight in my arms. She sat there but a moment, before brushing me aside and struggling to her feet. Before I could stop her, Roberta took up the sledgehammer and, ignoring her father's cry of anguish, brought it down on the attractor. She hit it again and again, demolishing it completely, and then, for good measure, she smashed the workbench into kindling also. When she was done she scattered the pieces before setting the sledgehammer aside. She was breathing heavily, and her face was a mask of anger as she turned to confront her father. "You old fool!" she cried. "Did I not tell you there was too much power?"
I expected the professor to counter vociferously, as was his fashion, but he looked shaken and said nothing.
"You mess with things you do not understand!" continued Roberta. "Why can you not be content with catching the spirits already present in our world? Must you now bring new and ever-more-dangerous horrors into being?"
"I—I'm sorry," muttered the professor.
Roberta gestured at the shattered machinery. "Just because something can be designed and built, it does not mean you should do so!"
"Yes dear."
The professor was contrite, undoubtedly. But I could tell his scientific brain was excited by the implications of this new discovery. There was a certain gleam in his eye, and I guessed he was already working on plans to capture the half-seen phantasm which had almost crossed the barrier into our world. It was plain to see he was excited by the untold horrors lurking around us, and I could not imagine him giving up the hunt so easily.
At that moment he stooped to gather a fragment or two of his destroyed machine, inspecting the pieces closely, and Roberta promptly ordered him out of the cellar. He left unwillingly, protesting all the while, but she had up a fearsome temper, and in addition was taller and stronger than her aged father. She'd also taken up the sledgehammer once more, holding it in both hands, and that seemed to settle the matter.
"The old fool," she growled, once he'd departed up the stairs.
I said nothing, for it was not my place to do so.
Roberta turned to me, and
