London Darkness- Infernal Inventions

by Christopher Stocking

  Ryker looked at his palm-watch. “We can’t stay here,” he repeated. He looked at Celia and sighed. “Celia, where would your sister want to be buried?”

  Celia looked up at Ryker. “Help me lift her.”

  Ryker grabbed Victoria’s legs and Celia carried her by her shoulders. Celia and Ryker carried the body into her bedroom and tucked her into her bed. Celia grabbed a cloth and wiped the blood from her sister, and then laid the cloth over her sister’s face.

  Celia stared stone-faced at Victoria’s lifeless body. No more tears streamed down her face; she didn’t sniffle or shudder. She simply stared blankly. She closed her eyes and lowered her head in a silent prayer. Finally, she turned to Ryker and Wendell who stood in the doorway. “Let’s go,” she said quietly.

  ***

  They returned to Adelina’s lab just as the sun dropped below the horizon, flooding the city with a cascade of pink and orange light.

  The lift lowered into the lab and they stepped off. “Well, did you find anything?” Shamus asked urgently. He rushed up to Celia and nearly bumped into her.

  Celia stared at the Irishman with cold, unmoving eyes. Her face was streaked with marks from the tears that flooded down them, and her eyes were puffy. “It appears Desmond had some contact with the man known as Caiden,” she answered plainly and sidestepped Shamus.

  “That’s it?” Shamus asked. He flung his arms out. “You didn’t find out anything else?”

  Ryker stepped up behind Shamus and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Give her some time,” he said quietly. “You wouldn’t feel like talking if you watched your sister’s brains get blown out.” He walked around Shamus, followed by Wendell.

  “But I don’t have a sister,” Shamus called after them. He shook his head and approached Livvy who stood leaning on a nearby table. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “The girl’s crazy sister gets her head blown off, and she can’t even spare a second to let us know what happened, or if she even found anything out.”

  Livvy sighed and shook her head. “Are you really so insensitive?”

  “How can there possibly be time for sensitivity? I’m beginning to think you people don’t realize what’s really important here. Lives are at stake, and the League is in danger.”

  “Your life is at stake,” Livvy replied sharply. “Adelina’s life is at stake. The rest of us don’t have to help you, you know.”

  Shamus looked at her through slit eyes. “If you don’t want to help me, then go,” he said grimly.

  “You know that’s not what I’m saying. All I’m saying is maybe you should try to be a little more sympathetic. We all know this is a tough time, and we’re trying to make the best of it. You have to be patient with the help you have. Give Celia some time. I know you’re anxious to get this guy, and we will. But this is clearly tough for her.”

  Shamus looked at her a moment, and then grumbled and walked away, defeated.

  Ryker followed Celia to the back of the lab where she sat in a dark corner. “Celia, are you going to be alright?” he asked. He knelt in front of her and put a hand on her leg.

  “I’ll be fine,” she answered calmly. “Just give me a few minutes.”

  Ryker, surprised at how composed she was, nodded and walked away. He approached Adelina who was standing on a step stool and reaching inside a Spear Bot. Her face, arms, and clothes were covered in grease and filth. “Come on,” she grunted as she pulled on a wrench. The wrench slipped and flew out of her hands, clanging loudly on the floor. “Damn it!” she yelled.

  “Everything alright?” Ryker asked. He picked up the wrench and stood up on his toes to look inside the bot.

  “Something keeps jamming these gears when the bot gets moving too quickly, and I can’t figure out what it is. I’ve been working at it all day.”

  “Maybe you just need a break,” Ryker suggested.

  Adelina stepped down from her stool and wiped her hands with a rag. “I suppose you’re right.” She leaned against the table and continued cleaning her hands. “Did you guys find anything interesting?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ryker answered. “Wendell and I waited outside while Celia talked to her sister. A few minutes later we heard a gunshot and burst in there to find her sister dead. I chased the guy onto a roof, but he jumped off.”

  “That’s pretty rough,” Adelina answered. Ryker nodded. “Tell me about your mother.”

  Ryker looked at her, caught off guard. “Um, well,” he paused. “She was a fantastic inventor. Well, so I’ve been told. She died when I was twelve. I got a few glimpses of her inventing, and it appeared to be great work. However, everything your mother does looks great when you’re twelve.” Adelina laughed. “I did eventually run into an uncle of mine, on my mother’s side, who told me that my mother was on the team of inventors that revolutionized machinery. She helped to harness the power of steam, and use gears and pulley systems to create motion and movement. Really brilliant work.”

  “Did she work for the League?” Adelina asked curiously.

  “For a while, yes. But they fired her shortly after I was born. They felt her work was slipping because of me.”

  “And now you hate the League and refuse to work for them,” Adelina said.

  Ryker looked at her and smiled. “So, you think you have me all figured out, eh?”

  Adelina smiled. “I do have my shining moments.”

  Celia approached them. Her face was cleared of any evidence that she had been crying, and she gave a half smile as she approached. “You look better already,” Ryker commented.

  “I feel better. I feel as if a weight has been lifted off me, really. I was always so concerned about my sister. I was always worried about if she was doing okay, or if she was in trouble. But, now I don’t have to worry anymore.”

  “I’m glad you’re seeing some positive in this,” Ryker said.

  Celia smiled. “Oh, my sister, yes. She told me that she and Creator Desmond had spoken to this Caiden fellow. So, either he was captured, or he was attempting to become a part of this Partum Chaos. She also told me that we can locate Caiden in a four-story manor in the center. I’m assuming that means in the center of the city.”

  “Interesting,” Ryker said. “I think I need to have a talk with Shamus about Terial again. If Creator Desmond was trying to get into Partum Chaos, maybe Shamus knows more than he’s sharing.” He turned to Adelina. She had continued working on the inside of the Spear Bot. “How much about that massacre at Terial do you know about?” he asked.

  Adelina shrugged. “Shamus kept a lot of it to himself. He told us the Bots would be tested on live targets, and that we had to keep it a secret. He said he would handle the public side of the issue.”

  “I see,” Ryker answered. “I’d better go have a word with Shamus.”

  “Please, do be civil,” Celia called after him. She watched as he walked away and then leaned on the table beside Adelina.

  Shamus sat alone at a table sipping tea from a steel mug. He watched as Ryker sat across from him.

  “You said that Creator Desmond had been acting strangely a few days before he was murdered, correct.”

  Shamus eyed him carefully. “Yes,” he answered cautiously.

  “Do you think maybe he was attempting to get in to Partum Chaos? Maybe he disagreed with the manner in which you tested your Bots?”

  Shamus leaned in close. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”

  Ryker leaned back in his chair far enough for the front legs to leave the floor. “I’m not accusing you of anything. All I’m saying is maybe you knew that there were survivors, and that an uprising was coming. You knew that Desmond didn’t agree with what you did, so he might join Partum Chaos. Surely you couldn’t have one of your own men be part of an organization trying to kill you. So, maybe you had Desmond killed. You could blame it on Partum Chaos, and you’d go free.”

  “That sure sounds like an accusation,” Shamus stated firmly. “Look, I don’t know what you think you’ve stum
bled upon, but I don’t have anything to hide here. I knew nothing of this Partum Chaos, and I didn’t know that Desmond was meeting with this Caiden character. Whatever you think is going on, certainly is not going on.”

  Ryker, surprised at how calm Shamus was, leaned forward in his chair and the legs slammed against the hard floor, sending a loud thud echoing through the lab.

  Shamus took a deep drink from his tea and sighed with satisfaction. “I’m sorry, was there something else?”

  “Celia’s sister told her where we can find Partum Chaos.”

  Shamus, in the middle of another drink of tea, spit it in a large spray all over the table. “What are we waiting for?” he said excitedly. “Let’s get going.”

  “Now, just hold on a second,” Ryker said. “We’d better think up a plan before we go charging in there, guns blazing.”

  Shamus sighed and slouched in his chair. “You’re the gunslinger here. What do you propose we do?”

  Ryker thought for a moment. He raised his arm to rest it on the table, but stopped, noticing the pool of tea. “I want to scout the building first.”

  “You think you’re just going to walk in there and get a good look of the place? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I snuck into the League Headquarters. Twice, actually.”

  Shamus narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth. “I do recall hearing something about a human and a gnome being captured.” He glanced at Wendell. “Would that be you and your little friend perhaps?” Shamus’s eyes widened. “Charles died shortly after that. You. You killed him, didn’t you?”

  Ryker leaned in close. “I had to kill him before he killed me,” he whispered.

  Shamus shoved the table forward, knocking Ryker over backward in his chair. Ryker rolled back, returned to his feet, and drew his revolver in one swift movement.

  The others ran over to them and stood in a semicircle.

  “Damn it, stop it, both of you!” Livvy shouted.

  “He killed Charles!” Shamus shouted back.

  “I know,” Livvy answered. She looked at Shamus with sudden shock; as if she were a child who just told her mother she saw her father kiss another woman, even though her father made her swear not to tell.

  Shamus snapped his head to the side and looked at her. “What do you mean you know?”

  “I… uh… I…” she stammered, but couldn’t get any words to come out.

  “You knew all along that this bastard killed Charles, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I… I… I’m sorry,” was all she could say.

  “Save it,” Shamus barked. He looked back at Ryker and then stormed off.

  “Shamus, wait!” Livvy called after him.

  Shamus waved a dismissing hand as he walked away.

  Livvy glared at Ryker. “Look what you’ve done now,” she said irritably. She approached Ryker and poked him with a bony finger. “Are you happy now? Look what you did. I don’t even know if I can fix this now. I wish you had been killed in that explosion.” Tears welled in her eyes and she ran after Shamus.

  Ryker put his revolver away and looked at Celia and the others. “He certainly took that worse than I thought he would.”

  “So it was you who killed Charles, eh?” Adelina’s voice rang out from behind Celia. “I knew the old man didn’t die from a heart attack.”

  “What do you know about him?” Ryker asked.

  Adelina sat across from Ryker and sipped at what was left of Shamus’s tea. “Charles was a sort of father figure to Shamus. He raised Shamus since he was a boy and taught him everything he knows.”

  Ryker’s eyes dropped to the table. Guilt suddenly overwhelmed him; an emotion he wasn’t entirely familiar with. “Dire situations—”

  “Dire situation or not,” Adelina interrupted. “It doesn’t take his pain away. Killing this Caiden fellow is your best bet to making it up to him. Assuming you want to make it up to him.”

  Ryker looked up at Adelina. Her face was casual, but her eyes were serious. “Alright,” he said quietly. He stood up and walked over to a crate by the generator where he had a few of his personal items stashed. He took out Ishbelza’s mask and tucked it into his belt. He grabbed a few extra revolver rounds, a screwdriver which he slid into the back of his belt, and closed the crate.

  “Where are you going?” Celia asked as he made his way to the lift.

  “To Caiden,” he answered sternly.

  “I’m going with you,” Wendell declared.

  “No,” Ryker answered. “I only have one mask. I’m going in alone.” He pulled a lever and the pressure release shot out a stream of steam as the lift ascended.

  “He’s going to get killed,” Adelina said casually as she finished the tea.

  Chapter 21

  Ryker splashed through the puddles of the sidewalk. A powerful thunderstorm had rolled in out of nowhere and dark clouds loomed over him. Ryker stepped with purpose; as if each step could be his last. He clenched and opened his pistol hand repeatedly as he walked. Why do I feel like this? He thought. His stomach writhed with the unfamiliar feeling of guilt mixed with his usual determination. So I killed the old man. It’s kill or be killed out here. I have no reason to feel guilty about this. Killing Caiden should make me feel better. He looked at his palm-watch. It was 3:57 a.m. Surely no one would be up.

  The center of the city consisted of a circle of large manors owned by some of the richest men in the city. In the center of the buildings was a statue of three gears with a sword through the center of them.

  Ryker observed the circle of manors. All the windows in most of them were pitch dark, with the exception of three manors right next to each other. Ryker counted each row of illuminated windows. Center manor, he thought.

  He slid the mask from his belt and secured it on his face. It fit a little awkwardly, but he was sure no one would notice.

  A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating all the manors. Two guards sat at the corners of the roof, their legs dangling over the edge. Each was armed with a scoped bolt-action rifle, and wore a mask similar to Ryker’s.

  As Ryker approached the large, elegant, wooden door, another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. Ryker looked up to see the guards aiming their rifles at him for a moment, and then lower them.

  Ryker smiled and swung the door open. He entered a small welcoming room decorated with brightly-colored wall hangings and paintings. Soft, thin music seemed to float into the room. At least they’re classy, he thought. He stepped into the next room—the common room—where he was greeted by two masked men in expensive black suits. They each pulled back one side of their jackets, revealing shining silver revolvers.

  “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before,” the man to Ryker’s left said.

  “I’m new here,” Ryker answered confidently. “Word of your establishment is spreading quickly. I couldn’t help but be eager to sign up.”

  The two men glanced at each other. “As you should be,” the man to Ryker’s right said. “What’s your name, boy?”

  Ryker internally panicked for a moment. “Caleb Norton,” he lied. The guards eyed him for a moment, and then one of them walked over to a desk and removed a rolled up piece up paper from a drawer. He unrolled the paper and read it. “Hm, I don’t see you’re name on here,” he said after a long pause.

  Ryker swiftly pulled the screwdriver from his belt and embedded it deep into the closest guard’s neck. The guard struggled and produced a terrible gurgling noise as blood poured down his chest.

  Ryker pulled the screwdriver from the guard’s neck and tackled the other guard as he removed his gleaming revolver. He kicked the revolver from the guard’s hand and jabbed the screwdriver into his sternum. The guard grunted and stared at the weapon stuck deep inside his chest. Ryker pushed harder and the guard stumbled backward, sliding the screwdriver out of his body. He slumped over the desk and let out one final, emptying sigh.

  Ryker frantically looked around. He grabbed the dead
guard next to him and dragged him outside. He stayed as close to the building as he could to remain hidden from the rooftop guards, and hid the body behind a large bush. Ryker returned to the common room and slung the heavy body over his shoulder. With slow, labored steps he carried it outside and stashed it behind a bush on the other side of the door.

  Ryker, about to run back inside, stopped as a voice echoed out to him. “Where are you guys? You’re supposed to be guarding the door,” the voice called. “Probably out taking a smoke break.”

  The clack of footsteps faded as the person walked away, and Ryker charged back inside. He grabbed the piece of paper the guard was reading and slid it into a pocket inside of his waistcoat. There was no time to look at it now. Someone might come back.

  Ryker looked around. There was a door on either side of him, and a door behind the desk. Unsure of which to choose, he guessed left and opened the door as slowly and quietly as he could.

  The door opened to a dark hallway with five doors on either side. Ryker slipped into the room and closed the door behind him, enveloping the room in total darkness. He noticed a light coming from underneath the first door on the right. As he approached the door, the provocative cries of a woman being pleasured rang out. Between cries Ryker could hear the thin, soft music he had originally heard upon entering.

  He moved to the door opposite that one and heard very loud snoring. The kind of snoring that could wake a bear from hibernation.

  Suddenly, the door at the end of the hall swung open. Ryker reached back and grabbed the handle of his bloody screwdriver, but paused.

  A long-legged, brown-haired woman stood in the doorway. She wore an outfit similar to Celia’s working outfit, and walked with a certain seductive demeanor. She was followed by a black-haired man wearing brown trousers and a black shirt. They walked by Ryker without even glancing at him and disappeared into the second door on the right. Moments later, similar sounds as the first door on the right rang out through the hall.

  Ryker sighed and released his screwdriver. Something certainly isn’t right here, he thought. He returned to the common room and opened the door on the adjacent side. It revealed an exact replica of the hallway he was just in.