by Joseph Gatch
Phineas put down the journal, now sick to his stomach. This is all that it was? A crazed man’s goal to take over the Empire? For some reason, Phineas felt empty. All this time, wondering what was behind the abductions, the fear and the unknown…it was nothing more than a madman’s political coup.
He absorbed what he had read. Twenty days for incubation…that meant that the Dolonites had been active for the better part of the month, but why, if their master had been dead all this time, would they continue their mission? Unless continuing the mission was their prime goal until told otherwise…which meant that if they were not stopped…the entire city would be inhabited by Dolonites.
There had to be a weakness. Obviously, their inability to function outside their environmental suits was their biggest flaw; however, as Phineas had witnessed, it was no easy task to breach.
Once again, Phineas dug through the files, hoping beyond hope that there was something, anything he could use to save the city.
Abigail worked her way back through the field of containers and checked each one as she went. As she moved further down the line of subjects, their progress of transformation decreased, which meant that these were fresher captures than the ones near the entrance. She stopped suddenly and put her hand to her mouth to stifle a shout of surprise. Before her, in one of the tubes, was Markus Weatherall, a mechanic she worked with at the airfield. He had gone missing seven days ago, and no one had heard from or seen him since. It was assumed that he had quit his job and moved on as he had so often wished to do. She felt terrible that this was his fate. No one had even bothered to check on him. Like so many others down here…he probably wasn’t even noticed enough to be counted as one of the missing.
She looked at his face. It still bore some resemblance to the man she knew; traces of humanity were still evident.
His head suddenly picked up, sensing the motion outside of his tube, and he looked Abigail straight in the eye. A feeling of sadness emanated from his gaze, as if he had given into his fate. If there was any recognition in them, that he knew her at all, he failed to show it. Slowly, his head dropped again and his eyes closed, going back into his hellish slumber.
There was a noise off to Abigail’s right and she pressed against the base of the tube. Peering around, she inhaled sharply as a lumbering Dolonite walked past a few tubes down. Keeping low, she crept closer until she saw more, most of them assisting as unconscious captives were stripped of their clothing and then hoisted into the tanks. One of the captives woke up as he was being put in and began screaming. He was quickly submerged and, after a few moments of thrashing, he settled and began to breathe the liquid within. His eyes rolled back in his head as he submitted to the changes that were about to take place.
Cautiously, Abigail snuck further until she caught a glimpse of a familiar face. William was encased three tubes away from the one they had just put someone in. That meant that he hadn’t been in there for long and there was probably hope to still save him. She turned quickly and, in her haste, knocked over a loose cylinder that was standing next to one of the tubes.
The clanging metal made the Dolonites turn. Abigail closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and muttered, “Oh, crap.”
EPISODE
8
Fifteen Years Ago
Doctor Wilhelm Heisenberger entered his home beneath the streets of New York, his house courtesy of the Empire. He threw down the day’s newspaper in disgust. The new Emperor, a former soldier named Grant, was talking peace with England and France, trying to end the impending war before it began. The man was tough, but Heisenberger needed him to stand firm against the enemies of the States until he was ready to make his move. No sense in having to fight two wars in order to conquer one country. Though, if Victoria was to invade, Heisenberger’s monster army could come up from below and save the nation from her heel…and he would be lauded as a hero of the Empire. That scenario could work as well, he thought. The might of his army would be unstoppable.
He flipped a switch on his desk transmitter. “MS Designate 378...report to me immediately,” he ordered into the microphone. It would be a bit of a wait; they moved so slowly, something he still hadn’t been able to breed out of them. But no matter, he had plenty of time…down below, hiding in the shadows.
MS Designate 378 was by far the most intelligent of his soldiers. Several weeks ago, a shutdown of the pneumatic system forced the doctor to frantically try to save a new batch of initiates. While he was working, he realized that one of the soldiers, 378, was working down the line on the problem as well…without instruction. He watched in amazement how this servant repaired the system without having any prior knowledge of how it worked. He soon gave 378 other tasks to test its intelligence and found that it had a high mechanical aptitude, something completely unforeseen. Others had shown signs of individual thought, but none to this degree.
The door to his office swung open and the telltale sound of the re-breather heralded the entry of one of his soldiers. Sure enough, 378 lumbered through, much quicker than he had expected.
“Ah, my boy. Please come in. I have good news for you,” he said with a thick German accent. “You have been showing much, much promise and I wish to show my gratitude.
“You see, I have noticed that you, above all, have been bringing us more recruits than any of my other children. You have also shown that you can lead, and fix the machines when they need it, without my direction. This makes you an invaluable part of our army. As such, I hereby designate you as Prime, general of our forces.” Heisenberger placed a template upon Prime’s chest plate and swiped a brush dipped in red paint over it. When he removed the template, a tattoo of a red star and crossbones was emblazoned on the soldier’s chest.
“You will lead the others in bringing back more initiates…every night. As the simpering cowards say, tonight will be a Dolo-night…as will every night from now on.” Heisenberger sat down in his leather chair and propped his feet upon his desk. “Those are your orders…go and carry them out to the best of your ability.” He punctuated the statement with a long string of maniacal laughter.
The earth shook and Heisenberger sat up, gripping the arms of the chair and looking around in confusion. “What…what is going on?” The earth shook once again, and the last thing he heard was the crash of the ceiling as a half-ton piece of rock smashed through and landed on him.
Prime, not comprehending what was transpiring, or even caring, for that matter, turned and navigated through the field of falling debris to carry out his orders. Unfortunately, the cave-in also blocked the tunnel leading to the surface. In accordance to his nature, Prime took command and the Dolonites began the long dig to the surface.
Now
Phineas sat down on the edge of the desk and tossed a rock across the room. There was nothing here to give him any idea on how to stop these monsters. Nothing. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and shook his head in despair. Shoving the journal into his coat pocket, he began to gather up the schematics and fold them for storage as well.
He was about to leave the house when an echo resounded through the cavern.
“PHINEEEEEEAAAAAASSSSSSSS!”
One thought came to mind at that moment—Oh, crap.
Phineas bolted from the house and ran towards the containers. Abigail burst from the test tube forest and Phineas slowed her down as he grabbed her hand.
“Did you find him? Did you find William?”
“Yes…and all of his new friends. We have to get him out of that tube before it is too late.”
“Where is he?”
“On the other side of the mass of Dolonites heading this way,” she replied.
Phineas looked around. “If we circle around, maybe we can avoid them and give them a chase. That might give us enough time to get him out of here.”
They re-entered the maze as the first of the Dolonites emerged. “This way,” Abigail said, pulling Phineas’ hand. After enough running and dodging to get even Phineas lost, they came upon the n
ew recruits.
Phineas quickly set to work finding a way to open the tube. “Did you see how they locked these things?”
“All I saw was some of them lowering one of the men in and another putting the top on. I didn’t think to ask for directions.”
“Typical woman,” muttered Phineas as he climbed on top of the tube.
“I beg your pardon, sir. You know very well that I am just as mechanically apt as you are,” snipped Abigail.
“Just watch for our friends and be ready to shoot them, please. We can argue who is better later.”
Shaking her head, Abigail turned and swept her pistol from side to side, watching for impending doom. It didn’t take long. The Dolonites were much smarter than they looked…at least the one leading them seemed to be.
EPISODE
9
Phineas pounded on the cover of William’s tube and used every tool in his belt, but nothing worked. The canister must have had a vacuum seal on it, preventing it from opening until the subject inside had fully matured into a Dolonite. He heard the whine of the pistol he had given Abigail and a ‘holy…’ well, expletive, as she steadied herself from the recoil. Again and again, the pistol whined.
“They are not vomiting!” Abigail shouted, indicating the response the pistol was supposed to produce. “They are still coming!”
Phineas tossed her the discombobulator rifle. “Try the bigger one…it might have more effect on them. Just steady it into your shoulder and brace yourself.” He slid down the tube and picked up a large stone. With as much force as he could muster, he banged it against the glass tube again and again.
“Real scientific,” said Abigail.
“You’re not helping,” replied Phineas as the rifle sent Abigail back a few steps. Her target staggered back just as many steps, but quickly recovered.
Further down the rows, one of the tubes shattered sending the blue fluid and the enclosed Dolonite spilling across the ground. Phineas quickly picked up on the incident and told Abigail to turn the rifle on the tube holding William.
The whine was terrible on the receiving end as Phineas was caught in the periphery. He stumbled back and retched as the glass shattered and his boots were submerged in the viscous fluid. Shaking his head, knowing that he couldn’t take time to recover, Phineas staggered over to where William lay bleeding from a few shards of glass embedded in his shoulder.
Phineas slapped William’s face several times to wake him up, but to no avail. He noticed that the man wasn’t breathing and hefted him up onto his shoulder to get the liquid out of his lungs. More whines came from the discombobulator as Abigail unleashed salvos against the approaching hoard.
Suddenly, William gasped mightily for air and, in a panic of not knowing what was going on, began pounding on Phineas’ legs trying to regain his freedom.
“Will you settle down, William!? We are trying to rescue you! Stop that!”
“Phineas? What the devil are you doing here? The last time I saw you was outside the theater.”
“As I am trying to tell you, this is a rescue. Now shut up and tell me if you can walk.”
“Are those things here?” asked William.
“What do you think we are rescuing you from, you dolt?”
“Then, no…I can’t walk. I can run. Now put me down!”
“Abigail!” shouted Phineas.
“WHAT?” she shouted back between shots.
“Quit playing and come on. William is able to move.”
She quickly joined them and her expression changed to one of amusement as she spied William’s naked body. Suddenly aware of his lack of attire, he covered up his privates in embarrassment.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” she smirked as both men looked at her oddly. “Oh, I have brothers, you idiots,” she added sharply. She tore off the bottom half of her dress to give to William. “Cover up now.”
William gladly tied the makeshift kilt around his waist and they began their escape.
“How long was I in there?” William asked as they ran.
“Not more than five hours,” Phineas said as he looked at his pocket watch.
“Really? It seems like I was in there for an eternity.”
“You would look a whole lot prettier if you had been.”
“Will you two stop it,” said Abigail. “Did you find what you needed, Phin?”
“Everything. Let’s get out of here fast.”
It was a long run back to the entrance due to both William’s bare feet being cut up by loose stones and the appearance of Dolonites at practically every turn. Finally, they made it back to the stairwell. A few steps up, Abigail realized that Phineas had stopped at the bottom.
“What is it? Come on, hurry!”
Phineas continued to hesitate. “I have to stay.”
“What? We have to keep going!”
“I saw their plans, Abigail. I know what will happen if this doesn’t end here and now. If they get out again…”
“We know where they are now. The army can come and deal with them. You don‘t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do, and no…they won’t. Trust me on this. Who is better at breaking things than I am? And besides, I have schematics. You two get back up to the streets. Tell a constable what happened. Tell them to prepare if I don’t succeed.”
“But…”
“GO!” Phineas shouted. Then, suddenly, he added, “Wait!” and bounded up the stairs. He took Abigail’s face in his hands and kissed her. “Just so I don’t die wondering,” he said as he hurried back down.
Abigail stood in amazement and William looked confused, waggling his finger between the two of them. “Wait a moment…you mean that he…that you two…have never…OH FOR THE LOVE OF HEAVEN, YOU TWO ARE IMPOSSIBLE! Go, blow something up. You have probably been dying to do that all night. Come along, Abigail. I need to get some dry clothes.”
The two made their way up the stairs as they heard Phineas shout, “And watch out for the sewer kraken!”
William looked back at him and then at Abigail. “He is joking, isn’t he?”
Phineas ran as fast as he could. Suddenly, renewed strength coursed through his body and he began whooping and yelling to draw the Dolonites away from the entrance. It didn’t take long for them to take notice, for it seemed that they began pouring out of every nook and every corner of the cavern. At one point, he looked back and tried to count their numbers. He gave up after seventy.
Beyond the incubating tubes and what looked like a type of living area for the Dolonites, Phineas found what he was looking for. Gigantic Tesla coils reached past the mist, their electrical arcs crackling above. The hum of the machinery was louder here and he finally spied the main generator that serviced the entire complex. Then he noticed something else. The ground seemed to tremor beneath him. At first, he feared that it might be another untimely earthquake, but then, turning, he found that it was much worse than that.
Slowly approaching, the entire Dolonite Army was heading his way with only one thing on their simple minds.
Stop Phineas Frakture.
EPISODE
10
Twenty Years Ago
“Phineas?”
The young boy stopped working on his clock and looked up. “Yes, Father?”
“What is it that you have there?”
“My clock, sir,” Phineas said reluctantly, as if he had been caught stealing a piece of pie before dinner.
“Bring it here,” his father ordered.
Phineas carefully brought his clock over to his father. The elder Frakture took the piece and turned it over, examining it. “Where did you get this?”
“I…I built it…from the piece room. I did not think that you would mind if I took some of the old pieces.”
His father inserted a key and wound the boy’s creation. It immediately set its gears in motion and fluidly kept time as he checked it against his pocket watch. “I recognize the housing, but there was nothing in it, last I recall. You…built the cl
ockwork?”
Phineas nodded. “I am sorry, sir, I didn’t…”
“No need to apologize. This is…marvelous work. How did you learn to do this?”
“From watching you, Father,” Phineas said, as if the answer was obvious.
Phineas’ father took his watch fob from his waistcoat and handed it to Phineas, who looked at it in awe. It was his father’s prized possession and, as far as he knew, his father never let it off his person. “My father gave this to me when I was ten years old, after I had built my first clock. You are years beyond in talent than I was at your age. We call that a prodigy. It is a very special gift.
“Time, Phineas, is all important in this day and age. Everything runs on a schedule: man, machine…whole cities. They all depend on the ticking of the gear and they rely on the clockmaker to ensure that the gear is accurate. One bad gear is all it takes to throw off time. Find the gear that matters and the rest falls into place. Perfection is what people want and, from what I see here, you are already achieving it in your work. That watch is yours now. A symbol of the perfection we work towards. Remember to oil the gears and tighten the springs, and this watch will serve you well, as it has me.”
Now
Time was running out. The Dolonite hoard was approaching and Phineas had no idea how to stop them. He looked over the massive generator and then pulled a schematic from his coat.
“Come on…come on…where are you?” he muttered as he scanned the inner workings of the machine. He concentrated, blocking out the noise and the urgency of the situation. Then, his head snapped up, and he grabbed a wrench lying on a work table near the generator.
Phineas set to work, opening an access panel and picking through the wiring until he found his target. He unhooked the lead and then cross-wired it with another.