London Darkness- Infernal Inventions

by Christopher Stocking

  “Because I surely would have found you out by now and killed you,” Ryker laughed.

  “Just keep your finger off the trigger when we get to the lab.”

  ***

  After ensuring they were dressed in their best clothes, each fitted with a monocle and tailored suit, they arrived at the headquarters of the League of Inventors. The iron door had the League of Inventor’s L embedded into the front of it. Inside the L were carvings of gears, cogs, and other mechanical workings.

  Ryker opened the door to the elegant lobby. A receptionist sat behind a wooden desk at the back of the room, and a mechanical cougar lay next to it. Its eyes glowed bright green and its face was molded into a constant state of anger. It lifted its head and cocked it to the side. The cougar’s eyes spun closed and then opened, revealing red eyes. It beeped and ran up to Ryker, keeping its head low and taking a defensive stance.

  Ryker and Wendell glanced at each other, and then at the receptionist.

  “You’ve got a gun. Place it on the desk and state your business,” she said flatly. She kept her focus on a stack of papers in front of her.

  Ryker stepped around the cougar, but it maintained its gaze and stayed close behind him. He removed his revolver and set it on the desk in front of the dark-haired receptionist.

  She looked up at him, her face grave and unyielding. “State your business,” she demanded.

  Wendell puffed out his chest and adjusted his monocle. “We’re traveling all across Europe, looking for labs to invest in.”

  The receptionist eyed them carefully. “How much are you looking to invest?” she asked.

  “No less than one million,” Ryker answered.

  The receptionist sat up very straight in her chair and smiled at them. “Investors are always welcome here, at the League of Inventors Headquarters. If you’ll excuse me for just a moment, I’ll set you up with a guide immediately.” She ran out of her chair through a swinging door on the left side of the room.

  A few moments later she returned with a well-dressed old man. His cane tapped on the floor as he limped toward them. He extended a hand to each of them. “Hello, my name is Charles Levadikan, but you may call me Charles.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Charles,” Ryker said as he shook the old man’s hand. Charles grabbed Ryker’s wrist and turned his hand, palm up. He examined the watch sewn into Ryker’s hand. “Very fine craftsmanship,” he complimented. “Surely you had it done here?”

  Ryker smiled. “I’d never go anywhere else,” he lied.

  Charles hunched over and extended his hand to Wendell. “And what are your names?” he asked with a smile.

  “My name is Wendell Reed, and this is my business partner, Ryker Mayson.”

  Ryker looked through slit eyes. Thanks for using our real names, he thought sarcastically.

  “It’s great to meet both of you.” The old man was very excited and there was always a grin painted on his face. Of course, with a suit like the one he had on, it was evident he had plenty of money, so what’s not to be happy about? “Please, follow me.”

  Charles led them through the door and into a large laboratory. The room was filled with massive generators, nearly ten times the size of Ryker’s generator. Inventors, both human and gnome, scurried around the lab holding prototypes and carrying large crates of steel and other machine parts. “This is our first lab,” Charles said. He extended his arms out wide, as if opening curtains. “We have nine other ones just like it, each with its own specialties and quotas.”

  “Very impressive,” Wendell said with fake curiosity. He inspected one of the large generators, and watched an inventor work with mock examination. “Was there anything in particular you were looking to see?” Charles asked.

  “Not really,” Ryker answered. “Perhaps you could show us some more of the labs?”

  “Certainly my boy!”

  Charles led them through another door, and into another lab identical to the first.

  Wendell’s eyes widened. “Why are there only gnomish inventors in this lab?” he asked.

  “These inventors create devices specifically for gnomes, of course. We don’t allow humans to work in this lab. We want our gnomes to feel just as capable as humans.”

  “Why wouldn’t they be capable anyway?” Wendell snapped.

  Ryker kicked his foot sideways into Wendell’s knee. “Take is easy,” he whispered.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you, sir.”

  Wendell glanced up at Ryker with slit eyes, and then back at Charles. “It’s no problem at all,” he said.

  “Shall we move on to the next lab?” Charles asked.

  Ryker extended an arm and Charles led them through yet another door, into the third lab. Just like the first two, this lab was equally identical, aside from having another mixture of human and gnome inventors.

  Ryker moved in close to Charles and laid an arm across his shoulders. He spoke very softly. “This is all very impressive, but, are there any, other labs?”

  Charles looked at Ryker, his eyes soft, and blue. “What do you mean?” he asked, his face wrought with confusion.

  Ryker pulled Charles in closely. “You know… other possibly more secret labs?”

  Charles smiled and spoke quickly. “Unfortunately, we have no such labs. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some other work to attend to. You are more than welcome to explore on your own, or you may see yourselves out. Good day.” Charles rushed out of the room as fast as his bad leg would take him.

  Wendell glanced up at Ryker. “You don’t suppose you tipped him off, do you?”

  Ryker watched as Charles scurried out of the room. “I don’t entirely know, to be honest. But, you heard him, we’ve got free reign of the place.”

  They entered the fourth lab, which was still the same as the first three. Upon entering the fifth, they noticed there was one less generator in the room.

  “What are we doing?” Wendell urged.

  “Follow me,” Ryker said. He briskly walked through the lab toward the area of the missing generator. “Why isn’t there a generator here?” he asked rhetorically. He looked over his shoulder at the League Inventors. They were all preoccupied with their work, and none of them paid attention to Ryker or Wendell.

  “What are you doing?” Wendell asked impatiently.

  “Look for a button, a lever, anything that looks different than the other labs.” They began scouring the area around the missing generator. “Now would be a great time to have my specs,” he commented quietly.

  “Over here,” Wendell called in a loud whisper. He was crouched under a counter pointing at a lever on the bottom side of it. “I’ll bet this does something.”

  “I’ll bet it does,” Ryker answered. “But, we’ll have to get all of these people out of here first.” Ryker turned around and faced the lab. He held his hands high into the air. “Attention, League Inventors. Attention!” he shouted. The inventors slowly stopped what they were doing and looked at Ryker. “As a potential investor, I must have complete silence while I make my decision. Please exit this laboratory for only a few minutes while I decide.”

  The inventors looked around the room at each other, confused. A few of them chuckled and returned to work. “Look!” Ryker snapped. His voice echoed in the large room. “Get out, now! Before I put you all out of work!” his red eyes burned with intensity.

  The inventors looked at each other, and then scrambled out of the lab.

  Ryker faced Wendell who stared wide-eyed. “Okay, do it,” he said. All hints of anger were wiped from his face.

  Wendell pulled the lever, and steam rushed out of a large pipe in the wall. It floated up to the ceiling and exited through a vent. The floor next to Ryker slowly began to spin and lower as steps formed.

  Ryker looked at Wendell, surprised. “Let’s get going,” he said. They slowly descended the stairs that led to a dimly lit, large room. The generators were about the size of Ryker’s, but they gave off a dim purple light. Ten long, s
teel tables lined the center of the room, and on each end of the tables was a large gray toolbox.

  Ryker and Wendell walked through the dreary lab. There were no inventors, no signs of life. They approached one of the tables where an assortment of parts lay neatly across it.

  “Do you recognize any of these?” Wendell asked.

  “There are a few things here I’ve never seen before,” Ryker answered. He looked to the other side of the room. “Over there,” he said. He pointed to a door on the other side. There was a large window next to the door, revealing tall gray cabinets. “I’ll bet whatever information we’re after is in that room.”

  They walked toward the room, glancing at each table as they passed. Every table had the same assortment of foreign parts on it, many unrecognizable to Ryker or Wendell.

  They reached the door and Ryker grabbed onto the handle. A flash of light erupted across the room and Ryker flew backward. He crashed onto one of the tables, spilling the parts on the floor.

  Wendell ran over to him and knelt down. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  Ryker grunted and sat up on his elbows. “What the bloody-hell happened?” he asked. He coughed and slowly stood up.

  “Looks like it’s going to be harder to get in there than we thought,” Wendell said.

  They approached the door again. Ryker examined the door handle closely, but couldn’t see where it was trapped. “The device must be on the other side of the door.”

  Quick beeping suddenly rang out in the room. They turned around and saw a mechanical cougar, twice the size of the one in the lobby standing on top of the first table in the room. Ryker and Wendell pressed their hands to their ears to try and block out the terrible noise.

  The beeping stopped and the creature’s metal claws scraped and pounded loudly as it ran across the tables toward them.

  Ryker reached for his pistol, but only grabbed onto his holster. “Damn,” he swore. He stepped back, his back pressed up against the window next to the door.

  Wendell glanced up at Ryker, and then back at the cougar. “Hey! Come get me!” he shouted at the cougar. He frantically waved his hands through the air.

  “Wendell, what are you doing?” Ryker cried.

  “Shut up! Come and get me you piece of scrap metal.”

  The mechanical cougar released its deafening beep again. Ryker covered his ears and fell to his knees as he cried out.

  “Come on! Come on!” Wendell shouted over the horrific noise of the mechanized feline.

  The cougar reached the last table and launched off of it. It opened its mouth, revealing over one hundred silver, razor-sharp teeth.

  Wendell stepped out of the way and the cougar crashed into the door. In a flash of light and the sound of grinding metal, the mechanical beast flew through the air and hit the ground. It squeaked sharply as it slid across the metal floor.

  The metal creature slowly returned to its feet and shook its head from side to side. It crouched, ready to charge them again, but suddenly it convulsed. A bolt of electricity shot from its head to its tail and back again. The cougar took a timid step forward and fell over to the side. Its glowing eyes dimmed and faded out.

  “You really are crazy,” Ryker said as he helped Wendell to his feet.

  “We’d better get out of here,” Wendell said as he brushed himself off. They returned to the stairs and ascended them. None of the inventors had returned to the lab yet, giving Ryker and Wendell just enough time to close the staircase.

  As the steps spiraled to a close, the door at the other end of the lab swung open and the inventors filed in.

  A gnome approached them. “You’ve had time enough to think,” he said irritably. “We have a lot of work to do and can’t have you holding us up any longer.”

  “Well we’ve made our decision,” Ryker said officially. He and Wendell walked out of the lab and out into the lobby. Ryker approached the desk and the receptionist glanced up at him.

  “I imagine you want your weapon?” she asked snidely.

  “I would appreciate it. It wasn’t cheap you know.”

  The receptionist scoffed. “Well, unfortunately, I can’t allow that.”

  Ryker narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

  The receptionist reached under her desk and the click of a button sounded.

  Wendell slammed his hands on the desk. “What’s going on?”

  Two guards rushed into the lobby and grabbed Wendell’s and Ryker’s hands, securing them with iron cuffs.

  The receptionist smiled. “Clearly stealth isn’t your strong suit. Take them away,” she ordered with the wave of a hand.

  Chapter 5

  The holding cell was plain, dark, and dismal. A single gas lantern hung from the center of the ceiling, providing Ryker and Wendell barely enough light to see a hand in front of their faces.

  “Well this is just fantastic,” Wendell whispered. His tone was harsh and shrill. “I don’t know what the hell is going on around it, but obviously we saw something we shouldn’t have. And now they’re going to kill us.”

  “No one is going to die,” Ryker answered lowly. “At least, neither of us are going to die, that is.”

  The door clicked as it was unlocked and it swung open, painting the walls of the cell with bright light. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway and tapped a cane gently on the floor. “Follow me,” an old voice spoke.

  Ryker and Wendell glanced at each other and exited the cell. The figure had his back to them. He reached up and smoothed back his white hair. “Sit,” he ordered. He extended his arm to the right at two wooden chairs fitted with iron wrist and ankle restraints.

  Ryker and Wendell looked and each other, and reluctantly sat in the chairs. Wendell looked at the restraints uneasily. A guard at the front of the room secured the irons.

  “What’s going on here?” Wendell cried as he struggled.

  “Leave us,” the white-haired man said. The guard nodded and exited. The door clicked locked. The white-haired man turned and faced Wendell and Ryker. He tapped his cane against his leg.

  Charles, Ryker thought. He gritted his teeth. “I don’t enjoy being taken advantage of,” Charles said quietly. He leaned his cane against a table and slid off his jacket, setting it on the desk. He rolled up his white sleeves, just above the elbow, grabbed his cane, and stepped in front of his prisoners.

  “Who took advantage of you?” Wendell asked sarcastically.

  Charles smiled. He raised his cane in the air and smacked it across Wendell’s face.

  Wendell grunted and spat a mixture of blood and saliva.

  Charles paced in front of Ryker and Wendell. The tapping of his cane was timely, always striking on a particular beat, as if it were a metronome keeping time. “Now,” he paused. “I know you were in the hidden lab. What exactly did you see?”

  “We didn’t see anything,” Ryker answered quietly. His body tensed, expecting a strike from the cane.

  Charles stood in front of Ryker. He stared at him condescendingly, his eyes unyielding. He placed the tip of his cane on Ryker’s chest. “You say you didn’t see anything?”

  Ryker swallowed, and then nodded.

  Charles sighed. With the flick of his thumb he opened the top of the cane, revealing a small button. He pressed the button and Ryker cried out. His body convulsed and shook as the cane sent shockwaves through his body.

  “Stop it!” Wendell roared. He breathed heavily through clenched teeth and pulled as hard as he could on his restraints.

  Charles released the button and Ryker relaxed. His breathing was labored and a small hole was burned through his shirt. Charles walked to the other side of the room, the incessant tapping radiating through Ryker’s pounding head.

  Charles inserted the tip of the cane into a small hole in the wall surrounded by metal, and a red light above it. Within a few seconds, there was a beep and the red light turned green. When Charles removed the cane, the light changed back to red. Charles walked to Wendell this time. “Perhaps I’ll ha
ve better luck with you,” he said calmly.

  Wendell looked at Ryker. His head hung low, his eyes were half closed, and he still had trouble breathing. He watched as Charles placed the cane on his chest and flicked open the back end, revealing the dreadful button. “What did you see?” Charles asked.

  Wendell flicked his eyes between Ryker and the cane. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his head. “I’d recommend you try not to perspire too much,” Charles said. “It will only help direct the energy straight to your head.” He flashed an evil smile and rested his thumb on the button.

  “Alright!” Wendell shouted. “We went down into your lab, but we didn’t recognize anything. We just saw tables with parts on them. Parts we’d never even seen before.”

  “My trap was set off twice. And, one of my robot felines is disabled. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  Ryker grunted. “Don’t tell him anything else,” he struggled to say.

  Charles narrowed his eyes at Ryker and stepped in front of him. He placed the tip of his cane through the hole in Ryker’s shirt, directly on his flesh, and pressed the red button.

  Ryker’s body tensed, and then shook wildly. He cried out as the energy coursed throughout his body.

  Wendell heard a faint pinging sound. He looked next to Ryker’s chair and saw a screw spinning in a circle on the wooden floor. He looked at Ryker’s left arm restraint. One of the screws was missing, leaving only three left to secure the restraint to the wooden chair.

  Charles released the button and Ryker went limp in the chair. His breathing was faint, and his eyes were almost closed.

  “How can you allow your friend to go through so much pain?” Charles asked Wendell. “If you were a true friend, you would tell me everything you know and everything you’ve heard.” He limped back to the charging station on the other side of the room.

  “Ryker,” Wendell whispered. He glanced at Charles, and then back at Ryker. “Ryker, look!” he whispered again.

  Ryker slowly turned his head and looked at Wendell. His face looked tired and his shirt began to soak up blood. He watched as Wendell directed his eyes at the loose restraint. He wiggled his wrist and took note of just how loose it had become.