by Joseph Gatch
Number one straightened up and put on his hat. “We will be watching you, professor,” he said. “Good day.” The trio then left the office, slamming the door behind them.
Phineas heard his students scramble back to their seats after listening at the threshold. He quickly collapsed in his chair. “Oh, my god, I’m going to have a heart attack.” He hyperventilated for a few moments and composed himself before exiting his office. As soon as he reappeared, his class stood and began clapping and cheering, much to his surprise.
“Whatever happened to being a coward, professor?” Wellwood asked when the cheering finally died down.
“Well, as you can see, there are exceptions to the rule. Now, let’s get…”
“Excuse me, professor,” said a secretary from the doorway.
“Oh, what now?” asked Phineas irritably.
“You have a call on the Aether-vid.”
“Fine. Class dismissed for the day, as it seems that everyone else’s business takes precedence before your learning anything useful.” He followed the secretary out of the class, followed by the animated chatter of how their stodgy professor was a hero and monster fighter.
“In here, sir. The call is waiting.”
Phineas sat down in front of a screen and a familiar image appeared. “Isabella? What’s the matter?”
“Hello to you too, Pinhead.”
Phineas flinched at her childhood nickname for him. “I’m sorry. Hello, how are you, dear sister?”
“All right, enough of the fake pleasantries; you are terrible at it. I heard the news…is it true? Are they gone?”
His sister, now living in Chicago because of her fear of seeing the Dolonites again, had been on the mend for years. “Yes…it’s true. They are finished. I…I was there.”
“Do you think Father is at rest now?”
A tear welled up in Phineas’ eye. “I’m sure of it.” He wanted to tell her, let her know that he had seen him one last time. That their father still remembered them, but Phineas couldn’t bear the thought of her having to think of their father as one of the Dolonites. “No more nightmares, dear sister. We can move on. All of us can.”
“Good. I’m glad it’s finally over. Phin? What happened to your face? Did you blow something up again?”
Phineas touched the bandages dotting his face. “Something like that. I need to go. Come out and visit some time. I’ll tell you about it.”
“Maybe I will. Bye, Pinhead.”
Phineas gathered his things and walked out onto the campus grounds. A shadow passed by and, as he looked up, an imperial airship thrummed overhead. Maybe it was time to take a stand, fight the system…be a hero. Then his body reminded him of being thrown through the sewer in front of a ball of fire, and he thought, maybe not.
He limped on, looking at the world around him. Two words, ever present in his thoughts, came forth again.
What if?
Phineas Frakture and the
Curse of Steamhotep
Fig. 2. — Abigail Bently
EPISODE
1
Majestically, an Imperial airship glided almost noiselessly across the mid-morning New York skyline. Its engines, only at half power, worked effortlessly as the mighty ship was carried along on a tailwind. Its lines were sleek, and the cabin hugged the envelope, creating less air resistance. Behind, the flag of the Imperial States of America fluttered in the wind; the banner’s red and white stripes, with the golden eagle clutching a wreath of stars, were prominent against the bright blue morning sky.
As it made its tour, the airship slowly moved out of the city and into the residential area where it would then circle around, returning to the city proper.
Not many would take notice of such a common sight, with the exception of children fascinated with such a ship; however, one man, walking along through one of the neighborhoods, stopped for a moment and looked up, watching the great airship as it seemed to hover for a second over his destination—the home of Professor Phineas Frakture.
Residing on a modest ten-acre estate on the outskirts of the city, his house and laboratory stood out from the rest of the neighboring homes in that the majority of the time, the estate was discerned by billowing smoke, electrical discharges, whining engines, and a myriad of other mechanical phenomenon too great in number to go into detail.
Neighbors knew better than to approach too closely during the evening hours or on weekends while the professor was home. One never knew when a stray Tesla bolt or an out-of-control automaton might escape the premises. On the walk, just outside the front gate, there was a permanent charred outline that resembled a person lying in repose. Some claimed it to be the remnants of a postman, others said it was a salesman, while the professor contended they were all daft and that the mark did not resemble a person, for they would have had to be lying on the walk for the discharge to leave such a mark. He offered to demonstrate, to clarify the matter; however, no volunteers were to be found to support or dismiss his hypothesis. And so, the debate raged on. Otherwise, it was a quiet neighborhood with the occasional horse-drawn carriage or mechanical hansom making its way down the cobblestone street.
One giant oak stood in front of the home, obscuring most of the white Victorian and, not too far from that, rested a giant cog from a previous experiment which had been flung several hundred feet into the air and was now half-buried in the front yard. It seemed to have been a good place to plant a bed of violets, whose brilliant purple accented the cog’s sienna rust.
This Saturday morning, William Patterson, friend, confidant, and errand boy to the professor, quickly strode up the walk to the front gate amidst glares from the neighbors who were out and about. Having endured their scrutiny before, he politely waved to them as if they were the best of friends. When he reached the front door, he noticed a whistle steadily increasing in volume and pitch. Not a stranger to the household, William let himself in and announced himself to the housekeeper, Mrs. Popkiss.
“He’s in there,” she said without ceremony, indicating the lab at the back of the house.
“Thank you, my dear,” he replied and swept up a piece of cake as he went through the kitchen.
The whistle, now a scream, struck its apex and, amid a boom and a cloud of black smoke belching from the doorway, something shrieked past William’s head and embedded itself in the kitchen door jamb. He casually touched his cheek, which was slightly singed, and then examined the projectile. A small screw was half-buried in the wood, and he pried it out, juggling it in his hand until it cooled.
Phineas stumbled out of his lab, blackened and coughing as he smeared soot from his goggles.
“Did it work?” asked William.
Phineas raised the goggles and then an eyebrow, giving his friend a scornful look. “What do you think?”
William tossed him the screw. “This might be the problem. You have a screw loose, but that is nothing you don’t know already.” He peered into the lab and waved away some smoke with a handkerchief. “You didn’t kill any of the neighbor’s cats with this one, did you?”
“I could only hope…dreadful things…and the last one was not my doing, it died of a heart attack.” Phineas wiped the soot from his face with a hand towel as Mrs. Popkiss went by carrying a broom and dust bin, opening windows along the way. “What brings you here so early? Lunch isn’t for another two hours.”
“I came to fetch you for our day out,” William said, munching on his cake.
Phineas again raised his brow. “And what could we possibly be doing on this day out? I have much to do today.”
“Yes, I can see that you are on the verge of a breakthrough,” William said dryly. “The World Exposition, my good man! All of the latest gadgets and gizmos and wondrous toys for you to marvel at. Things that will make you drool and proclaim ‘I want that!’”
“Most built by imbeciles who are out to make a quick dollar rather than further science…and most of which I could build myself if I wanted to.”
“Y
es…but they wouldn’t do that,” William said, indicating the smoke still pouring out of the lab. “Besides, I already have the tickets, and Abigail will be meeting us there. She is very excited about the mummy exhibit, and you have not shown her much attention lately. As a matter of fact, you have become even more withdrawn than you were before...”
Phineas shot him a glance.
“Anyway, she is waiting and you can use a break. See some fresh ideas, get recharged, and talk to inventors like yourself. I am sure your vast knowledge could benefit someone out there. Who knows? You might inspire the next great invention.
Mrs. Popkiss returned from the lab and took off a gas mask. “Go, sir. This is an all day job on my part,” she said wearily. “Puts holes in my walls, soot everywhere, some weird liquid sprayed all over my plants…” Her tirade faded away as she fetched more supplies.
“There, you see, even the warden has given you a leave of absence.”
“I heard that!” Mrs. Popkiss shouted from the next room.
“She heard that,” Phineas said.
“Hmph,” grunted William. “No cake for me for a week then.” He dusted the soot from Phineas’ jacket. “Let’s not keep your lady waiting, lest she become enamored by a brilliant young inventor and run away with him.”
“Fine.” Phineas wiped the last of the soot from his face. “Mummy exhibit, eh? That’s just what I need…another droll, lifeless person to put me to sleep. This is going to be a very boring day, I can just feel it.”
EPISODE
2
Rising above the exposition center in Flushing, New York, were several airship towers which, in turn, held a multitude of Zeppelins, each of their own unique design. Small craft flittered about, from one man gyro-copters to hover barges ferrying spectators around the expo. Throngs of people streamed in from all over the city and beyond. The cabbies were smiling broadly as overcharged fares were collected from people desperate to arrive at the center before the rest of the masses, evading long lines at the ticket booths. Those who arrived late, and who were still waiting in line, icily glared at those who strolled past them already holding tickets and not having to endure the heat of the morning or the agitation of those around them.
Several automatons greeted the visitors as they entered the main gate, taking tickets and ushering them through the entrances. Some of the visitors were turned away as the new models, equipped with the latest anti-counterfeit punch-cards, weeded out ticket forgeries.
Phineas eyed one of the automatons, checking its gears until he realized that he was holding up the line.
“Nothing interesting, eh?” asked William.
“I’ve made one before. Nothing new to me.”
“Yes, but this one hasn’t launched its gears through a window yet.”
The duo pushed through the already growing mob of people. Everyone seemed to have their heads either pointed up at the marvels above or pointed down towards their maps of the park, planning their strategy for the day.
Phineas felt a bump from behind and quickly lashed out, snagging a small boy by the collar.
“Sorry, sir. I weren’t watchin’ where I was goin’,” the boy said eagerly.
“That’s all right, son, but I would like my wallet back, if you please.”
“What?! I ain’t gots your wallet! Let me go!”
Phineas pulled out a small metal rod from his coat pocket and touched the boy with it. He yelped as a small electric arc zapped him in the rear.
“Fine,” the boy said testily. “Here ya go.” He handed Phineas his wallet back and ran off quickly as soon as he was released.
“Was that really necessary?” asked William as Phineas replaced both the rod and his wallet.
“It was if you wanted me to pay for lunch. Blasted orphans. We need more workhouses to keep them in check.”
“You are a pillar of humanity. I hope that you don’t use that thing on your students. The headmaster will surely be getting calls about you.”
“Well, just look around. A few years ago, this Exposition would have had half the visitors it has now. The population is out of control. Soon, the city will be spread so far that the food supply will have to come from Pennsylvania or farther. We will have to build upwards instead of outwards, and then aerial navigation will be impossible. We need to find something for all these people to do instead of stealing from those who have a position in society. I tell you, William, we will outnumber the rats soon, and we, in turn, will become the blight of the world.”
“Oh, look, there’s Abigail,” William said, happy to change the subject.
Ahead, sitting on a bench under a tree, was a vision in white. The two almost didn’t recognize her, for she looked so out of her element wearing a pure white cotton dress with her hair draping down over her shoulders…and not a stain of grease on her. She stood as she saw them approach and patted some dust off of Phineas’ shoulder.
“Did something explode again?” she asked.
“Mildly.”
“The house is still standing,” added William. “Always a good sign.”
“Well, I am glad that you two made it on time. The unveiling is about to begin,” said Abigail. “I can’t wait to see this.”
“Unveiling?” asked Phineas as they walked into an audience hall.
“Of the mummy, of course. Cavanaugh claims that it is a discovery of epic proportions.”
Phineas stopped and put his arm out in front of Abigail. “Wait. Cavanaugh? Edward Cavanaugh, the explorer?”
“Yes…he is the one who invited us and sent you the tickets,” she replied.
“Sent me?” Phineas looked at William.
“Mrs. Popkiss intercepted them and gave them to me. She knew that you would just throw them away, and that Abigail would love to go to this, so…we…lied.”
Phineas scowled. “Edward Cavanaugh has been a pain in my backside since grade school and a real jackanape to boot. He still owes me money. I hate him with a passion.”
“You hate everyone with a passion,” William said, guiding Phineas through the door. “Just smile and be cordial, for Abigail’s sake, and…be pleasant.”
Phineas gritted his teeth.
“All right, stop smiling. Your jaw is going to lock.”
The three of them took their seats in the front row and, shortly thereafter, the curtain rose.
“I wish that I had brought a tomato,” hissed Phineas. “I’ll be right back.”
William put his hand on Phineas’ shoulder and shoved him back in his seat.
A tall, ruggedly handsome man with slicked back blonde hair, blue eyes, and a chiseled jaw stepped out onto the stage wearing an explorer’s outfit.
“He looks ridiculous,” whispered Phineas.
“He looks amazing,” swooned Abigail.
Phineas shot her a glance and then returned his attention to the stage. The lights had dimmed, and images depicting an archaeological dig began to flash on a screen at the back of the stage…most of them with Cavanaugh in some sort of fake pose.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Cavanaugh began, “you have all heard of the legends of the great Egyptian Pharaohs, their vast treasures and magnificent pyramids. What you do not hear about are the people who are behind the scenes…”
“He has found Pharaoh’s nanny,” snickered Phineas.
“It was surmised that the pyramids were built by using pulleys and ropes and ramps…very primitive means. However, during a recent dig in the Valley of the Kings, I, Edward Cavanaugh, have discovered a man who defies all preceding notions of what the Egyptians were capable of.” He waved to someone offstage, and four men wheeled out a sarcophagus adorned not with gold, but with copper and brass.
Phineas leaned forward, his interest piqued as he noticed some of the symbolism on the cover. The stage hands propped the sarcophagus on end and stepped off to the side.
“As you can see, the figure adorned on the lid is not holding the standard crook and flail that other mummies have been found with,
representing the god Osiris, but a hammer and what appears to be an ancient wrench. This in itself was the first indication that our find was much more than your average run-of-the-mill mummy that other explorers have found. Although finding gold and treasures would be fine for some greedy grave robbers, I believe that our find surpassed those ten-fold. Runes deciphered at the dig site showed this man to be one of remarkable means and talent; inasmuch that his importance had actually surpassed the pharaoh himself.
“Now, what mummy wouldn’t be complete without a curse?” Cavanaugh looked around, building suspense while running his hand down the hieroglyphics inscribed on the lid. For effect, a stagehand made the lights flicker, and Cavanaugh gasped dramatically. “The inscription reads: ‘Rest in eternal slumber. For the key to eternal life shall bring despair in disturbing him’. It was apparent from the moment that we unearthed this treasure of treasures that we were going to be facing difficulty at every turn. First, tunnels collapsed as we tried to remove the sarcophagus, trapping myself and several of my assistants inside the tomb! It was only through my valiant and heroic efforts that I led my team to safety! Then, storms, power failures, and even unexplained deaths of members of my team plagued our endeavor! Even my faithful companion, Mitzi, was not immune to the curse. My poor baby was struck down for a week with a case of dysentery.”
A photo of a small, white, fluffy dog appeared on the screen, invoking a round of ‘awws’ from the audience, while Cavanaugh held his hand over his heart and tried to look sad. He indicated to the men to stand ready at the sides of the sarcophagus, and, with a flourish of his hand, they took hold of the lid and pulled it from its base.