by John Moore
“I prefer the model three myself,” said Kevin coolly.
“The model three is a collectable. If you use it, you depreciate its value.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“Sit down,” commanded Voltmeter.
“I prefer to stand,” said Kevin. Every military officer knew that the basic rule of resisting interrogation was not to cooperate in any way. If they offer you a chair, remain standing. If they give you a drink, tell them you’re not thirsty.
Except that even as the words came out of his mouth, he found his legs were disobeying his brain. He sat down, trying to conceal his look of surprise.
“Outside,” Voltmeter told the guards, and Kevin knew that trick, too. Voltmeter was showing how confident he was in his control of his prisoner. Inwardly, Kevin seethed.
“Now then, Timberline.” Voltmeter selected a wicked-looking blade from a pewter tray and laid it against Kevin’s head, just above his right eyebrow. “I suppose I could waste time asking a bunch of specific questions, but really, why must you and I go through such a tedious game? You know what modern torture methods can do. You know that everyone talks in the end. You know what I want to know.”
“I don’t know anything.”
Voltmeter made a motion with his hand. Stan brought over a small wooden desk and set it in front of Kevin. He set an inkwell down on it and put a pen in Kevin’s hand.
“You will spare yourself and your friend a lot of pain if you cooperate.”
“If I talk, will you release my companion?”
“Kevin!” said Becky. “Don’t do it!”
“I’ll release you both,” said Voltmeter.
“Yeah, well okay then.”
“Kevin!”
“Keep her quiet,” Voltmeter told Valerie. If he was surprised at Kevin’s quick acquiescence, he did not show it. He produced a blue examination booklet from under his cloak and laid it down in front of Kevin. “You have ten minutes to write down everything you know.”
Kevin raised his hands. “Does spelling count?”
“Certainly. You may open your booklet . . . now.”
“Right.” Kevin took a deep breath and began writing at top speed. Voltmeter sat down in his armchair, poured himself a cup of tea, and watched him with increasing smugness. Becky watched with increasing dismay. The Prince stayed focused on his task, dipping his pen at regular intervals and filling page after page. There was no clock in the room, so he had no way of telling how much to write or how much time he had. He suspected Voltmeter didn’t know either, and the man was just toying with him. A drop of sweat formed on his forehead, slid down to the end of his nose, and dripped onto the paper. He was still writing when Voltmeter held up his hand. “That’s enough. Close your booklet and pass it to the front.”
There was no one to pass it to, but Stan took the booklet away from Kevin. Voltmeter, Valerie, and Becky waited expectantly. Stan cleared his throat. The corners of his mouth quirked momentarily, but he made his face expressionless as he began to read. “Civilization began seven thousand years ago in Mesopotamia, at the junction of the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, an area known as the Fertile Crescent. With the invention of agriculture . . .”
“You said everything I know, right?”
“Fool!” A blade flashed in Voltmeter’s fist. A red slash appeared on Kevin’s forehead. Blood ran into one eye. “I want to know Logan’s battle plans!”
Kevin closed the eye and looked at Voltmeter with the other. “Battle plans? You want to know about battle plans? That’s a relief. I was afraid you were going to ask me about quadratic equations. I hate math tests. Sorry, I don’t know anything about battle plans. How about you, Becky?”
“Logan?” mused Becky. “Did you say Logan? The name sounds familiar—but you meet so many people in this business.” She shrugged. “Sorry, can’t place him.”
“Fine,” said Voltmeter. “I believe you. In that case, you are of no further use to me and you will die.” He yanked open the door, letting in a bevy of heavily armed men. “Kill them,” he told Stan. He swept his cloak behind him and turned away.
“Whoa! Wait!” Kevin started to rise. The guards forced him down with their spears. “Wait. Aren’t you forgetting something? Before you kill me, you’re supposed to explain your Diabolical Plan.”
Voltmeter stopped. When he turned around his face was composed again, and his voice was back under control. “My dear Timberline, you are completely correct. Rest assured that I fully intended this morning to explain my Diabolical Plan.” He paused for a moment to give Kevin a tight-lipped smile. “Explain my plan, that is, to Lord Logan. I’ve wasted too much time here already. I do not explain myself to mere apprentice heroes.” He started for the door again. “Only a man like Lord Logan can fully appreciate my genius.”
“Yeah, well you can’t be all that smart.” Voltmeter was almost gone when Kevin called out again. “Thunk escaped from your clutches.”
“Thunk cheated!” This time Voltmeter’s voice was high “Thunk cheated!” This time Voltmeter’s voice was high and shrill, a man barely on the edge of control. He strode back to Kevin’s table and slammed his fist down on the oak. “Cheated, I tell you.” He took a deep breath and brought his voice back down. “Very well, Timberline, you know the game. Here you are, locked in a torture chamber, deep in a fortress, your death ordered by an Evil Overlord. Instead of sticking around to make sure you are dead, he then leaves the room. What do you do? How can you possibly escape? Come on. You’ve read Taylor’s book. You know the answer.”
Kevin considered this. “Well,” he said carefully, “I guess there’s two things to try. Traditionally I would either trick the Evil Overlord’s dim-witted minions or seduce his Evil Assistant.”
“Exactly right. Trick the minion, seduce the assistant. I knew that, of course, so I prepared for it. My Chief Minion graduated from a top-notch university with full honors. I searched for an Evil Assistant who didn’t like men. I had it all set up, and then we captured Thunk, the foremost hero in the Twenty Kingdoms.”
Voltmeter picked up a lemon biscuit from the tray, frowned at it, then crushed it in his fist. Yellow crumbs trickled on to the floor. “I tortured him a bit. He didn’t have any information I wanted, but I felt in need of amusement. And then I let slip my Diabolical Plan. I wanted to give him vital information to take back to Deserae, so he would have an extra strong incentive to escape, beyond merely saving his own life. Right in front of him I gave the order for his death and then I left the room, enjoying the thought that behind me his attempts at trickery and seduction would prove futile.” His voice rose again. “And do you know what that barbarian half-wit did?”
There was silence in the room. Stan and Valerie studiously avoided meeting the Overlord’s eyes. Voltmeter answered his own question. “Instead of trying to trick my minion or seduce my assistant, Thunk tricked my assistant and seduced my minion!”
He picked up a scalpel and jammed it into the table. Stan looked at the ceiling. Valerie looked at the floor. Becky was the first to break the silence.
“I am so heartbroken,” she said. “I had such a crush on Thunk when I was a girl. I had no idea he was that way.”
“We were just experimenting,” Stan said immediately.
“Silence,” roared Voltmeter. “Get out!”
Stan left the room quickly.
“And you,” Voltmeter told Valerie. “You should have known better.”
“Excuse me, Lord Voltmeter,” said Becky again. “Not to sound self-righteous or anything, but when you decided to hire an Evil Assistant who was seduction-proof, weren’t you assuming that the hero would always be a man? Surely that’s a bit old-fashioned.”
Voltmeter smiled at her. “Spoken like a true barbarian swordswoman, my dear. I thought of that also.” He switched his attention to the other girl. “Valerie, why aren’t you wearing your outfit?”
Valerie winced. “But, my lord . . .”
“Don’t argue with me. You kno
w the rules. Change your clothes. Now!”
Valerie opened her mouth again, but was silenced by Voltmeter’s glare. She pouted and left the room.
“Wait until you see this,” Voltmeter told his unwilling guests. Valerie was gone only a few minutes. When she returned she looked completely different.
The bright red lipstick and dark eye makeup had been washed away, and she had done something to her long black hair to make it hang limp and flat against her skull. She was wearing a bulky wool sweater that effectively disguised her bust and a long tweed skirt that concealed her legs. She wore clompy brown shoes with white anklet socks, and a Star of David on a chain around her neck. She stood by the torture table and crossed her arms sullenly.
“There, you see,” said Voltmeter. “Clothes make the man, they say, and the woman also. Have you ever seen a more unattractive outfit in all your life? There is nothing, absolutely nothing, about Valerie now that anyone, man or woman, would find the least bit sexy.”
“I’m not wearing panties,” Valerie whispered to Kevin.
“I heard that!”
“Also, I shaved my . . .”
“Quiet!”
“Hey!” said Becky. “I thought you weren’t into guys.”
“I didn’t know he was a prince. Besides, everyone looks good when they’re in handcuffs.”
“Nothing you do here matters,” Kevin told Voltmeter. “Suppose you do conquer Deserae? Suppose you do gain control of the throne? So what? The Twenty Kingdoms are full of guys who won’t rest until the legitimate throne is restored. You’ll spend the rest of your life dodging assassination attempts, surrounded by bodyguards and hiding behind walls. What kind of life is that?”
“Right,” said Becky. “Unless you marry the Princess, you’re going to be miserable.”
“What?” said Voltmeter.
“What?” said Kevin.
“See, if you marry the Princess and have a son, then you have an heir. So there’s no point in anyone knocking you off, since rule would pass to your son anyway.”
“Um, Becky,” said Kevin. “Maybe you’d better be quiet.”
“Go on,” said Voltmeter. It was clear that this was an angle he hadn’t thought of. “But then they would try to kill our son.”
“Probably not. Her son would have legitimate right to the throne, since in Deserae the line of inheritance can run through either the son or daughter. Of course someone might still try to kill him, but he’d be at no more risk than any other king.”
“Say, how about this weather?” said Kevin desperately. “Boy, it sure cools off here in the mountains at night, doesn’t it?”
“But a marriage made under duress isn’t legal,” said Voltmeter.
“Sure it is,” said Becky, warming up to her theme. “This is royalty, remember. You’re right, you can’t grab some milkmaid right off the farm and force her to marry you. But for nobility, arranged marriages are a fact of life. No one will question it, even if the girl is unwilling. So if Lord Voltmeter marries the Princess Rebecca . . .”
“Be quiet!” Valerie suddenly slapped Becky across the face, cutting her off. Kevin looked at the Evil Assistant with surprise. There was some dynamic here he wasn’t aware of.
“Um,” said Becky. She seemed to realize what she had been saying. “Of course, none of this matters to me, because I’m a barbarian swordswoman. And a comic sidekick. So why should I care what happens to the Ice Princess? I was just babbling.”
“All right, that’s enough of that.” Voltmeter was finished. “I’m a busy man, and it’s time to wrap up this session. Timberline, you may be a novice, but I must admit that you did manage to penetrate my fortress and get your hands on the Ancient Artifact. I respect that. Normally I’d torture your girlfriend to death in front of your eyes before starting on you, but I’m going to take it easy on you and kill you both quickly and cleanly.”
“Thanks,” said Kevin. “If I can ever return the favor, let me know.”
“Gloves,” Voltmeter told one of the guards. The man brought a pair of loose black leather gloves that stretched up Voltmeter’s arms. “Apron,” he said. “I’m going to cut his throat. Stand back. The blood is liable to spurt quite a distance.” The guard brought a long leather butcher’s apron. “Scalpel.” A second guard put a blade into his hand. Voltmeter placed it against Kevin’s throat. “Any heroic last words, Timberline?”
“No, dammit,” said Kevin. “I should have thought something up ahead of time.”
“Too bad.” A drop of blood appeared at the tip of the scalpel.
There was a brief knock, and the door to the torture chamber opened. Stan stuck his head back in. “Er, Lord Voltmeter? I thought you should know this. We just caught a plucky girl in the ventilation shaft.”
If you find yourself confronted by a group of armed guards, be warned that they will attack you in mass. No matter what you have been told by other sources, rest assured that they will not line up to attack you one by one. Trust me on this.
—HANDBOOK OF PRACTICAL HEROICS BY ROBERT TAYLOR
To the surprise of no one, the plucky girl turned out to be Mercredi’s daughter Laura. The two prisoners were released from the torture chamber and thrown back into the dungeon while Voltmeter pondered over this new development. “It will give you a chance to think of a slick exit line,” he snapped at Kevin, as the guards dragged them away. “Bring this new girl to me,” the Evil Overlord then told Valerie. “Search her thoroughly first.”
Valerie smiled. “Yes, sire.”
“And search Timberline’s duct-cleaning equipment. Confiscate any weapons or fishing tackle he might have.” He stalked back to his office.
Kevin and Becky were marched at sword point back to the dungeon, chained to the wall, and the cage door slammed shut before them. Becky gave Kevin a worried look. “Are you all right, sweetie? There’s blood all over your face and shirt.”
“It was different from the exams I took in school. Usually I ended up okay, and my papers got covered with red marks.”
Becky smiled at this display of bravado. She said, “I’m scared.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get out.”
“That’s not why I’m scared. I was just thinking—I guess it’s the same for you—that being a princess and all, I’ve spent most of my life around politicians, lawyers, and nobles.”
“Right.”
“But I know there are a lot of honest, decent people in Deserae, even though I rarely get a chance to meet them. They’re the ones I’m scared for. What will happen to them if Voltmeter brings his Diabolical Device into the city?”
“The game isn’t over yet. That reminds me of a question. How do you manage to get away from your chaperones so often?”
“All my chaperones and ladies-in-waiting come from the very best of the noble families. So you can bet they’ve got plenty to hide. I just find out what it is and we come to an agreement.”
An hour later the two met with a surprise. Mercredi was thrown into the cell with them. However, there were only chains enough for two people. There was a huddled discussion among the guards as to whether Mercredi should be chained up instead of Becky, because a grown man was more dangerous than a young woman, or whether Becky should be left chained up, because they thought girls looked really hot that way. Unfortunately, professionalism overcame salaciousness, and Becky and Mercredi were both chained with one arm each, while Kevin was chained with both arms. This, alas, did not allow Becky to reach the key hidden in the floor.
“How did Voltmeter know you switched sides?”
“How does Voltmeter know anything?” said Mercredi. “He always seems a step ahead of everyone else. I should never have tried to double-cross him. What’s wrong with his plan for world domination anyway? I could have had my own university. Named after me, too. Even better, a research park. One of those places with big lawns and automatic sprinkler systems.”
“He would have killed you eventually,” said Kevin. “It’s in Taylor’s book.”<
br />
“Who?”
“The Handbook of Practical Heroics says the Evil Overlord always kills the mad scientist. To keep him from revealing his secret to anyone else.”
“I expected you to realize by now that Lord Voltmeter is not your run-of-the-mill Evil Overlord. And I am hardly a mad scientist. Phlogiston theory is well developed and accepted, with many practical uses and benefits. It’s just that no one has thought to apply it to genocide until now.”
It was only a few minutes later that Laura was brought in. She was a pretty teenage girl, with red hair tied back in a long ponytail and a scattering of freckles. She wore stockings, a plaid skirt, a plain white blouse, and one of those uniform blazers with the emblem of some private school that Kevin didn’t recognize. Right then her clothing was in disarray, and she looked like she had been crying. A smirking Valerie brought her into the dungeon and stood by while the guards chained her up. Laura waited, grim and stone-faced, while the guards unchained one of Kevin’s arms and applied the manacle to Laura’s wrist.
“All right,” Valerie said when they were finished. “Up on the walls. Prepare for Logan’s attack.”
The guards exchanged glances. “Shouldn’t someone be guarding the prisoners?”
Valerie tested the cage door. It was solidly unmoving. “They don’t need guarding. They’re chained and caged. They’re not going anywhere.”
One of the guards pointed at Becky. “This one got away before. She’s a slippery one.”
Valerie let her eyes linger on Becky and seemed about to make a comment. But instead she turned back to the guards. “I’m sure that if I were in your place, I’d also rather be down here cowering inside a nice safe dungeon than upstairs facing Logan’s army. But your officers say the major threat comes from outside this fortress rather than from within, and they want every man on the walls. If you have a problem with that, argue with them.”
The soldiers greeted this last remark with glaring hostility. Mercenaries all, they did not like having their professionalism called into question. However, they were also professional enough to keep silent and obey the order. They left, with Valerie taking up the rear and slamming the door behind her.