The Adventures of Phineas Frakture

by Joseph Gatch

  “Sweepio?” asked William.

  “Great. We forgot about him. Well, there goes a hundred dollars out the window…or skylight,” replied Phineas.

  “Sir, we are approaching the destination,” stated the captain of the Imperial Airship Zephyr.

  “Ready the men for deployment as soon as we are over the target,” answered Lieutenant Farringdon Thorne. “Everything is to be seized…” Thorne stopped mid-sentence as something flashed past the cabin window. “Did you see…?”

  “It looked to me like a flying mummy, sir,” stated the pilot.

  “I think it…waved…as it went by,” added the captain.

  Everyone in the cabin moved to the window and looked up. A few seconds later, a brilliant light lit up the sky, temporarily turning night to day. Another few seconds passed before a thunder clap crossed the area and a shockwave rippled the outer canvas envelope of the airship.

  Elsewhere, over the Exposition, fireworks had begun going off, celebrating the end of the first weekend. Spectators talked about the display for years afterwards as one of the best.

  Phineas stared up through the skylight as the airship suddenly turned and moved off. “Tell Mrs. Popkiss that she can stand down from general quarters. Oh, and have her bring the brandy and four glasses to the study. I think we can take it easy for the rest of the night.”

  EPISODE

  12

  Monday came and went. Students filed out of Professor Frakture’s classroom, grumbling about the grades they had received on the papers they had worked on all weekend, and about missing the opening of the exposition, to boot.

  Phineas, eager to get out and begin work on his engine once again, was filling his satchel with notes and tests when the door to the classroom closed and he heard the click of the lock. Looking up, he saw a familiar personage, dressed in a black uniform and trench coat, standing at the door.

  “I was wondering when you would show up,” Phineas said without emotion. In fact, this man, a security agent from Division Five, scared the living hell out of him.

  “This is twice that we have met under less than auspicious circumstances,” the man said.

  “Well, it is certainly not by my choosing,” retorted Phineas. “You seem to think that I care to see you.”

  “Two times,” the man held up two fingers, “you have taken what I want from me, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Once is happenstance, twice…well, I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Neither do I; but believe me, you’re the last one I’m thinking of when I’m going about my life. Anyway, what possible motive could you have for wanting a three-thousand-year-old mummy?” asked Phineas.

  The man sidled over to a desk and sat on the corner of it. “Let me tell you a story, professor. It is about a game of chess. The world is the board. On one side is the Empire. On the other…everyone else. We are not only playing to win the game, but to dominate it. In order to do that, we need pawns—those that we can throw at our enemies to weaken their forces and eventually capture their kings, or queens.

  “It is rumored that Victoria has a legion of undead soldiers, powered by boilers and mind control…killing machines that have no fear and no conscience. The Czar has battalions of giant walking mechanica with cannons with bores larger than any in our army. I won’t even say what the Chinese Emperor is suspected of having at his disposal. It is too fearsome to even mention.

  “You, professor, are denying us our pawns—two weapons that could have tipped the scales in our favor. First, the ultimate ground trooper, and now, the secret of an immortal soldier.”

  “I’m sorry that I have caused you so much hardship,” Phineas said coolly. “Your superiors must be thinking quite low of you about now. But, quite frankly, your methods leave something to be desired. The wanton genetic destruction of innocents to further your military gain cannot be condoned. Those Dolonite soldiers didn’t enlist voluntarily—they were kidnapped from their families and lives and mutated into mindless monsters. And, as for the secret of immortality…they would be better off dead, to spare them of the suffering that they would endure.”

  “Then why didn’t you take your knowledge of the Dolonites to the newspapers and expose us if you are so righteous?”

  Phineas hesitated for a moment. This was treading on thin ice, and now was not the time for him to lose his composure. “Because, like so many others, I had someone who was taken by the beasts. It was enough that I learned of their fates. Others didn’t need to know.”

  “Both proud and noble,” mocked the agent. “You realize that even with these setbacks, we will still have the finest war machine in the world. On land, in the air, even the oceans shall see our might—above and below. You see, plans are under way, even as we speak, to dominate below the surface. Our Empire will spread across the globe like wild fire when the time comes, and you, professor, can relish in the fact that you were part of it. Now, doesn’t that sound nice?”

  “What are you talking about? I denied you your soldiers. I want nothing to do with war.”

  The agent pulled a roll of papers from his coat and threw them on Phineas’ desk. “Recognize these? You drew them up for us several years ago. A contest, I believe it was. One that you were eager to win…to show off your intellect. The government made a few modifications to them, but the basis of your designs is still there.”

  Phineas looked over the schematics and recognized his work. A second set of similar documents held the design plus modifications for armaments. He scowled and crushed them into a ball.

  “Oh, do keep them. They will make for a nice memento after the war. And the war is coming, whether you want it to or not. Contrary to popular belief, one man cannot make a difference…at least not when he opposes the grand scheme.” The agent pulled a card with the name ‘Farringdon Thorne’ from his wallet and placed it on the desk. “If you ever change your mind about joining us, let me know. You really do nice work. I’ve driven one of the battle machines myself. It handles beautifully.” Thorne went to the door and unlocked it. “Oh, by the way, enjoy London...while you can. I hear that the weather is absolutely dreadful this time of year.” The agent opened the door and William entered as he was leaving. “Good afternoon, Mr. Patterson.”

  “Good afternoon,” William replied, only to give him a second glance, wondering how the man knew his name. Once he was gone, William waved his hand in front of his face. “Is there a sewer problem in this city? I have been smelling the most pungent of odors lately.”

  “Could be,” said Phineas. “The rats are certainly out in force.”

  “What did he want?”

  Phineas picked up his satchel and walked William to the door. “He seems to think that I am some sort of rebel, eager to thwart the Empire at every move.”

  “Posh. The only thing you ever rebelled against was when Mrs. Popkiss tried to switch you to tea. Although, I have to say that you were very passionate about that cause.”

  “A mistake she will not soon make again, I dare say.”

  They walked in silence to the edge of campus where they hailed a cab and headed for Phineas’ home. Along the way, Phineas stared out the window at the citizens going about their daily business. If Thorne’s prediction about the war was true, then all of these lives would be turned upside down. Life as everyone knew it would end. Not since Mexico foolishly attacked a battalion of Steam Walkers at the Alamo had there been war in this nation. Though America had an easy victory at that time, this would be entirely different. Their adversaries would be much more prepared this time around.

  When they arrived at the house, Phineas picked up the mail, which was bundled and tossed at the front gate. One of these days, he would have a talk with the postman so the lout would stop with his irrational fears.

  Mrs. Popkiss greeted them at the door and handed Phineas a cup of coffee as he dropped his bag and made his way to the study with William in tow. He flopped into his favorite leather chair in front of the fireplace as his friend too
k up his usual position in the chair opposite. After a few moments of brooding silence, Phineas began recounting what Thorne had told him.

  “That’s awful,” said William once Phineas was finished. “After all these years striving for peaceful applications for your inventions, they pervert your work into war machines.” He paused, staring at the pile of ashes in the fireplace, and then continued with a change of subject. “There is one thing that I don’t understand about our mummy affair.”

  “Just one? I’m still trying to grasp several aspects,” replied Phineas.

  “How did you know that Steamhotep wouldn’t hurt us in the clock tower?”

  “I felt that I had to change gears, so to speak, and think along different lines after what we saw in the basement. What if the mummy didn’t want to be resurrected? What if the curse on the sarcophagus didn’t pertain to others, but to the occupant? I had to look at his situation and not ours. Like he said, he and I are kindred spirits. All he wanted to do was build. Where is the despair in that? It had to be something different.”

  “Do you believe that it was really magic that kept him alive? That Anubis really does or did exist?”

  “Yet another ‘what if?’” said Phineas. “Can you explain the storm that we saw up on that roof through scientific means? Can you explain why there was a man without organs walking around, who should have been dead millennia ago? I certainly can’t. Does this change the world as we know it? Possibly, but until there are more facts, we can only surmise the truth. But…what if?”

  William took a sip of coffee. “What if you told Abigail how you really feel?”

  Phineas looked at his friend, slightly startled by the sudden query. “I’ve shown her my affection for her.”

  “How?”

  “Well…I gave her a new pressure valve for her rotor’s engine a month ago.”

  “Which blew up.”

  “Manufacturer’s defect.”

  “You built it.”

  “Like I said.”

  William and Phineas looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

  The door to the study opened and Abigail entered. “What is so funny?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” replied William. “Phineas made a joke.”

  “Right. I believe that like I believe in flying mummies. But, I guess anything is possible.” She stretched out on the sofa between them. “I’ve had the worst day. It has been a mad house at the airfield with all these new trainees coming in. It’s like everyone wants to be a pilot these days. But, it’s strange. They all seemed to be connected to the military.”

  “That would seem to fit what Phineas just told me,” said William. He then went into detail about their previous conversation as Phineas began sorting through the mail.

  “Well, this just became more interesting,” Phineas stated as William finished. “I received an invitation from an old school mate to speak at a forum.”

  “He doesn’t have anything to do with mummies…or vampires, does he?” asked Abigail.

  “No, but before Thorne left my classroom he told me to enjoy London while I could.”

  “And?”

  “Guess where the forum is being held. London.”

  “Couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?” asked William.

  “I don’t believe in coincidences…and he said the same thing to me,” said Phineas.

  “You aren’t really thinking of going, are you? It’s obviously…well, it couldn’t be a trap. Who would want to capture you? All right, I have no reason for you not to go,” said Abigail.

  “Who said anything about just me going?” Phineas held up three tickets. “Pack your bags, you two. We have first-class tickets to the land of good manners.”

  Clarence Kinneany was having a lousy day; well, to be exact, a lousy year. Ever since the new Coumby’s Chittering Chimney Sweep, a mechanical squirrel with a wire bristle tail, went on the market, his trade as a sweep had gone south. Why pay for his services when you could wind up a squirrel and send it up the flue any time you wanted? He had just sat down on the curb and wiped what little soot he had on his face when a glittering object in the gutter caught his eye. Hoping that it was some bauble that one of these rich folk had dropped, he reached down and picked it up. It was slightly smaller than his fist and had many gears rotating within. It didn’t seem like much, but you never knew what the scrap yard might pay for spare parts. He rubbed it on his coat and then shoved it into his shirt pocket.

  He suddenly felt a discomfort in his chest, probably from the sausage he had for lunch, he thought. Clarence let out a loud belch yet still didn’t feel relieved. The discomfort turned to a sharp pain, and he pulled open his shirt to reveal the bauble attached right above his heart. Small tendrils snaked out, impaling his flesh. Bones were suddenly ejected from his legs and left arm only to be replaced by mechanica. Clarence clawed at his face as something protruded from his eye. He screamed in rage and fear until…it was finally over.

  Turning to the east, the Heart of Ra’s next victim spoke one word: “Home.”

  Phineas Frakture

  and the

  Princess of Atlantis

  Fig. 3. — William Patterson

  EPISODE

  1

  “…and so, as I stood my ground, the beast charged forth, its head down and ‘pointed death’ aimed at my heart. I raised my two-bore and let him have it…right between the eyes at ten yards! There wasn’t much of the beast left, of course…but the ivory…oh, the ivory!”

  Phineas Frakture’s head flopped backwards, and he stared up at the ceiling. Did this man ever shut up? It had only been two days since they had left New York, but it felt like twenty. All he heard was hunting stories from this buffoon, who seemed to be everywhere. He had no escape. If only Abigail or William had been somewhere else on the ship, he could have sought refuge; however, they were also there, sitting in the lounge with him. The only difference between them and Phineas was that they were captivated by the man’s stories and became agitated if Phineas even moved slightly to get away.

  Phineas’ hand found its way into his coat pocket where a small box rested containing a locket that he had purchased for Abigail’s birthday. If he remembered correctly, it was tomorrow; however, not wanting to admit that he wasn’t sure of the exact day, he refused to ask William, Mrs. Popkiss, or worse yet, Abigail herself.

  He had spent hours in the shops of New York searching for something to get her and had finally decided on a vintage collection of Popular Mechanica. Mrs. Popkiss, upon seeing this, had quickly hit him on the head with one of the periodicals and dragged him to a jewelry shop where she had ‘helped’ him choose the locket now residing in his pocket. The housekeeper had even gone so far as to guide him into a photography studio to have a picture taken of him to place in the locket as well. Now, it was just a matter of timing to give the present to her…without missing her birthday.

  His mind quickly changed gears as his subconscious picked up something ‘off’. The sound of the airship’s engines droned on in the background, but there was another sound as well. Phineas couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  “Sir? Sir! Are you listening to me?” The old man barged into his thoughts. “I was just saying that bravery is the key…right that is…you must be brave if you are to face the horrors of the world…why, that brings up another story, one that—”

  “Quiet, you idiot!” Phineas snapped. The foreign sound was getting louder.

  “Phineas, that wasn’t nice,” scolded Abigail.

  Phineas, however, held up a finger and stood up. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?” everyone seemed to ask at once.

  A ‘fawooomp…fawooomp’ sound grew louder and louder with each passing moment.

  “Yes…yes, I hear it! What is that?” asked William.

  Heads turned, each of them straining to pinpoint the source.

  “The date…what is the date?” queried Phineas.

  “You mean, you don’t know?” asked
William. “How could you not know what day it is?”

  “I don’t waste my time with trivial things like that…that’s why I have you around, to keep track of rubbish. Quickly! The day and month!”

  “The sixteenth of May, of course.”

  “And we are over the Atlantic? Two days out…we are past halfway…in May?”

  “Correct.”

  “Oh, this is bad,” said Phineas, though he was secretly pleased to have verified Abigail’s birthday was indeed tomorrow. “Steward! Steward!” he shouted.

  “What is wrong? Phineas, you are starting to worry me…and everyone else,” said Abigail.

  A young man in uniform approached the group. “Yes, sir?”

  “Steward, tell the captain that we need to raise elevation…immediately.”

  “Why on earth for?”

  “Just do it…or we are all dead!”

  “I can’t tell him that without a good reason, sir.”

  Phineas grabbed the steward by the shoulders and shook him. “Air kraken, man! We are about to be crushed by an air kraken!”

  The steward’s face went white, and a wave of panic began to move throughout the room.

  “How do you know this for sure, Phineas?” asked Abigail.

  “Listen, though mating season is in March, the largest of air kraken will rise a second time in order to find females still in heat…and the air kraken is not the brightest creature on the planet. It rises…it sees a big object flying by…”

  “You mean…?” asked William, his eyes widening.

  “Yes!”

  “With…us?”

  “Yes!”

  “And we are…”

  “About to be violated in the most primitive air kraken sense.”

  “I think that I am going to be sick,” William said.