The Circus Infinitus - Victoria 7
Page 13
"Perhaps he's still here," I suggested that evening, after the Professor had been missing an entire day.
"But how?" Adam spread his hands helplessly. He looked terrible; paler than usual with a gleam of nervous perspiration on his forehead.
"Look at this place! It's full of pipes, hoses, weird contraptions and endless places to hide. Abbacus could be scuttling around underneath us right now."
"I suppose, but I've been calling for him all day. Surely he can hear me."
I flipped a hand. "He probably can hear you. I bet he's just sulking."
Adam frowned, and then looked at you. "You're probably right. He does hold onto grudges somewhat."
"You think?" I scoffed.
As it turned out, there was no need for Adam to worry. I had been right; Professor Abbacus reappeared not long after our conversation, stepping out from between two struts as though he had been there the entire time. When Adam saw him, he ran over to him, but the Professor simply flipped a hand at him and stomped off without speaking, heading upstairs to his laboratory. The Ringmaster hurried after him, but Abbacus slammed the door in his face and locked it.
Then I changed into the Swamp Girl. Since leaving my home at Oak Fens I had been spending my days in a small iron tank with little windows recessed into the sides. It was filled with salt water and only big enough for me to lie in. I had begun to really dread changing into this form, because lying in an oversized bathtub was really, really boring. Only occasionally did we land somewhere close enough to water I could actually swim in.
However, recently construction had finished on an indoor pool for a new act called the Water Wonders. When I got to try it out for the first time, it felt so good to finally be able to stretch my limbs underwater once more. The briny water was also heated, the bottom filled with sand, reeds, rocks and even a sunken ship model.
As I explored my new home I did have one Mrs Frankenstein moment when I wondered how the mechanism that rotated the stages would cope with the weight of this new exhibit. Even Professor Abbacus's machines weren't this heavy. But when the shows started, I realised the tank wasn't actually raised or lowered like the other stages - just moved around in a circle.
The Ringmaster introduced me as "A wild creature from the deeps that we managed to tame! She is no woman covered with scales and made to swim like a fish - she is a real aquatic being! Behold! The Swamp Girl!"
I didn't have an act worked out yet, but the mere sight of me frolicking in my new tank was enough to excite the audience. As they clapped and cheered, I thought about what I could do to amuse them. I started to swim in circles, faster and faster, building up speed so I could leap out like a fish. I landed with a mighty splash, sending water everywhere. Oh dear, how was that going to affect the mechanism? I wondered.
But I continued my antics. After all, I was here to entertain. I performed a couple more leaps, and then I built up even more speed for a spectacular somersault that drenched the entire front row and had the rest of the audience roaring with approval. Perhaps I could get a ring set up to leap through, I thought as I surged up out of the water as far as I could, and tried to dance on my tail like a dolphin. I only managed a few kicks before I flopped on my back with another colossal splash.
The audience thought it was all part of the act and roared with laughter. Really should practise that, I thought as I swam around on my back for a few laps. I took a mouthful of water and made a fountain that elicited more applause.
And then my portion of the act came to an end. The curtain dropped to uproarious applause. I was a hit.
But as I'd predicted, my enthusiastic antics had sent a lot of water running down into the stage mechanism. The rings turned once more, so the Ringmaster could do his magic demonstration and end the first show of the day, but by two o'clock they had seized up and refused to budge at all. Professor Abbacus scuttled down under the stages and oiled some of the mechanism, and that helped a little, but put a terrible strain on the gears. They ground and slipped. Sparks sprayed everywhere. When the stages turned they made a truly awful din. Professor Abbacus ordered me not to splash during my bit, which frankly made for a rather dull display. The two o'clock show stumbled to its end, but all of us circus folks knew there would not be a five o'clock one until everything downstairs had been thoroughly cleaned, dried and oiled - a job that would probably take days.
But then Professor Abbacus went back down and did something - none of us actually know what, because he refused to say - that put everything back on track. The five o'clock show went ahead without a hitch. The stages moved smoothly, without any sparks or slipping gears. Whatever he had done had fixed the problem.
Or so we thought.
As it turned out, his solution was only temporary. The next day, during the eleven o'clock show, there was a thunderous explosion, a terrible screech of gears, and an almighty shower of sparks from beneath the stages that shot up through the floor grill like fireworks. The electric lights flickered and went out, plunging the entire Big Top into close, smoke-filled darkness. The audience were quick to realise that this wasn't part of the show but a real cause for alarm - and there was an immediate stampede for the doors.
"Don't panic!" the Ringmaster bellowed in a stentorian tone that somehow managed to reach everyone in the room. "Please follow the lights and file in an orderly pace towards the exits!"
Busboy and Steamsaw had appeared with lanterns and were helping people to move out of the rows. The Ringmaster stayed where he was on stage, staring at the audience in avid concentration, as though willing them to be calm. Perhaps he was, for the cries of shock soon eased as the audience did what they were told, and moved out of the building. No-one was hurt, and everyone's fee was quickly refunded. They were also granted free access to all the rides and sideshows.
But the main show could not go on.
Last night, at midnight, I had changed from the Swamp Girl to Lady Frankenstein. I realised what Professor Abbacus had done yesterday to get everything working must have been some sort of Magick. His spell must have expired or been overridden somehow.
As soon as everyone was out of the building, Professor Abbacus lifted one of the access hatches and dropped down into the bowels of the machine to look for the source of this new problem. I wondered how he could see in the pitch blackness, and then I remembered his red eye. Practically everyone around here could see in the dark, even the Ringmaster to an extent.
He leaned over the hole. "Icarus, do you need some help?"
"I'll need someone to fire up the generator!" he shouted.
"I can do that," Adam called back. Then he straightened and turned to me. "Lady Frankenstein, stay here in case he needs something."
"Of course, but I doubt he'll ask me."
The Ringmaster did not look pleased. "This is an emergency, and right now you're the best person to help. You tell him that if he argues." He turned and hurried off down to the back of the Big Top where the engines were.
I stayed by the access hole, from which loud banging, screeching and grinding noises could be heard, interspersed with a lot of swearing. After about half an hour the Ringmaster got the generator up and running, and the lights flickered and came back on. Unfortunately, they didn't stay on for very long. With a bang and a flash from somewhere below, they went out again.
Professor Abbacus cursed up a storm. Then he poked his head up out of the hole. "Blasted failsafe! Where the blazes is the Ringmaster?" he snarled.
"Er, probably still at the generator." I pointed over my shoulder.
"Get him for me. I need his help."
"Perhaps I could help, Professor-"
"No!" he roared at me, and a furious cloud of smoke surrounded his head. "I have no need of your help! This is all your bloody fault anyway! Splashing and carrying on like a Goddamn porpoise!"
I took a deep breath. "The Ringmaster told me to tell you that I should stay here and help you."
"Oh, he did, did he?" Professor Abbacus pulled himself up out of
the access portal. "We'll just see about that!" He stormed off across the room, leaving me alone beside the hole.
I started down into the darkness beneath, my keen undead eyes making out the intricate mechanism. I sat down beside it, swung my legs down, and dropped into the hot, close space. I knew I was taking my life into my hands, but I didn't care. I could help. I knew I could help. I had explored this place from top to bottom and knew how everything worked. Already I could see patches of rust and sized up sections that needed attention. I found the Professor's tools and methodically started work. I knew simple cantrips that would help to clean and dry the affected areas, and started casting them. At this rate it would take me hours, perhaps even days, so I modified the spells to include larger areas. I wondered what Abbacus had cast that had backfired so badly.
I heard Abbacus returning, his boots ringing against the steel floor. He stopped beside the hole and heaved a very loud sigh of resignation. I couldn't stop from smiling. The Ringmaster must have sent him back here with a real flea in his ear. "Where the Hell are you, Frankenstein?" he yelled.
"Down here, Professor."
He sighed again, and dropped down into the hole. Ducking his head he crept through to where I was working. I stopped. He made a noise, as though to chastise me, but then he stopped himself. "Continue what you were doing," he growled, waving his mechanical hand at me.
So I directed my attention to another damaged area and worked on freeing two fused gears. I used a cantrip I had made up myself called "Oil". It couldn't keep something lubricated permanently, but it did unlock the two wheels so they could be greased up properly.
"What was that?" Abbacus asked softly, in a tone I had never heard him use before - at least not with me. "Was that a spell?"
"Er, yes. I know a little Magick." I wiggled my bony fingers.
His human eye went wide. "You ... you know Magick?"
"Ah, yes. Didn't the Ringmaster tell you?"
"No, he neglected to mention that interesting little titbit." Abbacus ran his human hand his forehead. He suddenly looked a bit paler and greyer than normal. Suddenly he sagged against a support column behind him. "Magick ... How much Magick do you know? Just simple cantrips?"
"No, I can do some more complicated spells. But all this place really needs is a good clean and grease up. The water hasn't had time to really sit and start rusting things beyond repair. Er - may I ask what you did yesterday to get it working? Why ... why didn't it stick?" I was still nervous talking to him, just in case he lost his virtually non-existent temper with me again. After all, I was down here in a forbidden zone.
But he still looked unsteady, like he was about to faint. "It was basically a blanket repair spell, but the machine spirits didn't like it. It was too sudden, too much of a shock..." He tailed off, realising I was staring at him in surprise.
"Machine spirits? Machines have spirits?"
"Yes. I can communicate with them. They tell me ... you're doing a good job, and they're not happy with me." He sighed again. "Alright. Keep going. I need to figure out why the power keeps shorting out." He pushed himself up, turned and hurried off, so quickly he banged his head on an overhead beam. He swore as he disappeared into the smoky dimness.
That was odd, I thought as I continued my work. But it certainly beat him trying to kill me.
While Professor Abbacus worked on getting the power restored so it wouldn’t cut out again, I was able to get the stage mechanism back to a state where it would turn freely. It only took me six hours. As soon as I was finished I downed tools, took a deep, metaphorical breath, and went in search of Professor Abbacus to let him know what I’d accomplished.
I hoped he would still be civil with me. I found him up the back in the boiler room. He and the Ringmaster were standing beside the large two-pronged switch that started the generators.
“I’ve been through the entire wiring system,” Abbacus declared to the Ringmaster. “I’ve patched up every conceivable break. If this doesn’t bloody-well work I don’t know what I’m going to do!”
“Surely those machine-spirits of yours can tell you exactly where the problem is?”
“Del, I keep telling you they don’t know! This building is like their body! They only know that something’s wrong, not where the exact issue is! If you were sick, could you tell me exactly what was wrong with you?”
“If I put myself into a trance I could.”
Professor Abbacus turned away. “Fuck, wrong person to ask!” Finally he noticed me. “What d’you want, Frankenstein?”
“I’m finished. The entire stage mechanism should run smoothly now. Of course, I could have spent days down here cleaning everything completely, but being what I am, I don’t have that luxury.”
“Good. Then we’d better give this another go then.” He grabbed the switch with his mechanical hand, but I placed a hand on his arm. I felt more steel beneath his dusty leather coat and wondered how much of him was machine. I was actually curious to know.
“Now what?”
I gulped. “Perhaps … perhaps I could take a look at the circuit diagrams for this place before you try. I might be able to spot something you missed.’
I could tall that annoyed him; his one eyebrow lowered in disapproval, but before he could speak, the Ringmaster opened his mouth;
“Yes, let her check them.”
He turned. “What the Hell would she know about circuit diagrams? This is completely new mechanology!”
“You did say she was extremely clever and knew Magick.” The Ringmaster smiled at me. I would have blushed if I could have.
“By the bloody festering bowels of hell, alright!” Professor Abbacus removed his hand from the lever and reached into one pocket of his coat. He pulled out a crumpled, yellow pile of papers and handed them to me. “You’re lucky to get these, Frankenstein. I only recorded everything for him.” He jerked a thumb at the Ringmaster.
Mr Delfay smiled apologetically. “I don’t understand them at all. Logically this whole place should have blown up years ago.”
I examined the detailed diagram. At first it was simply a horribly detailed mess, but soon I spotted the logic behind it; the wires that carried electricity from the generator to the lights, the stage, Abbacus’s lab, the difference engine, the Omniportallis and something called ‘the psionic battery array’ – whatever that was. I also spotted where Professor Abbacus had used Magick reinforce delicate areas, where the electricity would have sparked and caused fires. He had also enhanced certain sections with Magick so they would work more efficiently. There appeared to be a lot of enchantments around the connections to these batteries.
“What are these psionic batteries, anyway?” I asked.
“They’re my invention, actually,” the Ringmaster replied. “They absorb the psionic energy from the audience. You may have noticed the wires under each chair?”
"Yes. I was wondering what they were for."
"People in excited states tend to exude more psionic energy. It's collected and channelled into the batteries for future use. A single person doesn't produce much power on his own, but you'd be surprised at the energy output of an entire audience of several hundred, three times per day. The batteries are backups in case our engines fail."
"I see." I looked back down at the diagram again. "I'd suggest checking these connections again - all those additional enchantments - they appear to be weak points."
Professor Abbacus scratched at his steel chin with a metal claw. "You could be right. I've always had trouble getting through to those psionic battery machine spirits. Bloody alien technology."
"Alien technology?" I asked out loud, but the Professor was already stomping off.
"You'd better go with him - take a look." The Ringmaster made a shooing motion. Once again, no-one wanted to explain that interesting titbit to me.
The psionic batteries were located beneath first five rows of seats, a collection of flat grey discs stacked in columns and held in place in steel cages. They sparkled
in the dim light as though embedded with thousands of tiny crystals. I had seen these things before but assumed they were storage containers. They were, but for mental energy. As I drew closer than I had before I could feel a crackling in the air, like an approaching storm. I could smell ozone, and all the hair on the back of my neck prickled and stood up. But I could also smell the distinctive sulphuric stink of Magick. Professor Abbacus grumbled as he checked the massive collections of wires that joined up and ran into the tops of these piles. Since the smell of Magick was almost overpowering, I narrowed my eyes, trying to 'see' the enchantments. I'd been trying to perfect this talent over the years and felt I was almost there. In a place like the Circus Infinitus, that was completely overrun with Magick, I was starting to spot flashes of colour out of the corners of my eyes.
Finally I spotted the faint skeins of colour criss-crossing the batteries like a web. For a few minutes I watched Professor Abbacus mend a few holes with both Magick and physical connections, and then I spotted it, a major break in links to the last column. Several wires had come loose and there was a hole in the Magick matrix big enough to shove a hand through. The last battery was leaking power. If not either reconnected or disconnected completely, it would cause a chain reaction or explode entirely.
"Professor," I called - and suddenly, a dreadful weariness overcame me. Surely it wasn't midnight already? But then I realised I could hear the clock in the Ringmaster's office chiming the end of my shift as Mrs Frankenstein. "The loose connection-" My voice seized up as the thing around my neck started to glow. I began to change. I dropped onto all fours as the transformation consumed me.
And I shifted into the Wolf Woman, the one who couldn't speak.
"Dammit Victoria! What did you see?" growled Professor Abbacus.
In this form I could no longer see Magick. But I could certainly smell it. I was almost throwing up. But I resisted the urge to run. I still had a job to do. I could actually smell the problem - the sulphur smell was stronger up in that corner, and mixed with the smell of ozone. I pointed a claw repeatedly into the area I had spotted. He stared into the corner. "What? Is there a break up there?"