by Stone, J.
“Really?” she asked. “Hmm. I suppose I was a bit hurried when I wrote that card. Either way, I appreciate both of your help, but you’ll never be able to go back to your old lives now. They’ll hunt you as heretics - same as me. I can’t imagine why you would have caused yourselves so much trouble like this.”
“Simply put, my dear,” the professor stated, flinging off some of the liquid on his gauntlet, “you are worth it.”
At this Germ gave a little smile and nodded to Erynn in complete agreement. Noticing something odd, however, he asked, “Where has your necklace gone to, ma’am?”
Grabbing at her chest in vain and looking down to find it absent of the sparkling green gem, Erynn said dolefully, “It must have fallen in there,” pointing to the sewage they had just left.
“Tern, aim your eyes to the water,” Germ said as he laid the rifle on the ground and jumped into the sewage stream. He could hear something as he splashed into the waters, but it was completely muffled as he submerged himself into the depths. Above, Tern turned toward the water and followed Germ’s movement underneath.
Germ felt a strange calmness and peace, while he waded through the waters of the sewer. It felt like second nature, and he thought back on what the professor had said when he was still a pup in the lab.
“You will likely have some lingering animal instincts and memories, I am afraid,” he had told the young Germ. “My process cannot completely purge the generations of knowledge embedded in your brain.”
He could almost recall scurrying about in these tunnels in a different life, feeding off the scraps that fell through the cracks leading to the city above. His whole life, Germ had been hyper vigilant about cleanliness, but being back in these tunnels, he allowed himself to bask in the filth as he waded through the bile, excrement, and death of the city flowing all around him.
Germ had never seen Erynn without that emerald necklace. From the day they met, that necklace was always dangling around her neck or in safekeeping nearby.
After they had brought her in and moved her things into the manor, Germ had asked her about the piece of jewelry. The little girl’s hand clasped tightly around the green rock, as her gaze dropped to the floor.
He discovered it had been the last vestige of Erynn’s mother. In one of her final acts before the plague took her, Erynn’s mother had bequeathed the emerald necklace to her. The jewelry had been in her mother’s family for generations, and she cherished it accordingly.
His mind returned to the task at hand, as his eye caught something sparkling at the reflection of Tern’s light. Germ swam closer and reached out a paw, gripping it tightly, before returning to the surface.
Coughing and sputtering, the rat threw himself up along the side of the sewer walkway. He held out his hand in front of him and to his disappointment, revealed a piece of scrap chrome metal from some sort of contraption. Germ tossed it forward in vexation at his failure.
He took a deep breath and went back down under the water. The rodent scoured the sewage floors, but the murkiness of the water and the current were making it difficult for him to see anything on the water’s floor. There was no smell for his nose to follow in the filth surrounding him, and his whiskers weren’t picking up any useful information. He stayed beneath the water for what he eventually realized was too long, and when he came back up for air he coughed up a bit of the sewage water.
“Germ...” Erynn said quietly.
“Apologies, Madam Clover,” he said. “I’ll check again, once I catch my breath.”
“No, Germ,” she said, kneeling down to him. “It’s okay. Let it go.”
“Are you sure ma’am? I know how important it is to you. Your mother...” he trailed on.
“I’m sure,” she nodded. “Besides, you smell bad enough already. Come on,” Erynn said, giving him her hand and a gentle smile.
Germ grabbed her hand with his paw, and she helped pull him out of the sickly dark waters. Still ashamed at his fruitless endeavor and quick to move away from the subject, he commented, “We should retrieve our things before someone comes looking for us, sir,” looking up at the professor. Germ picked up the rifle he had placed along the side of the sewer and slung the strap over his shoulder.
“Indeed,” Rowland responded. “Gerald must be quite bored by now.”
“Gerald?” Erynn asked. “I figured he’d be a goner by now.”
“Oh, no,” the professor answered as they set out toward their destination. “Ms. Petunia’s cat provided enough sustenance it seems.”
“Wow,” she replied. “Well, when the world is overrun by mutant potatoes that have enslaved humanity, I’ll tell everyone that it all started with Ms. Petunia’s cat.”
She turned her head and smiled back at the rat, “Hey Germy, I thought of a possible way of increasing my pistol’s bullet capacity. Mind if I take a look at the rifle to investigate?”
“Of course not, ma’am,” Germ replied - eager to be rid of that responsibility. He handed her the gun and gave a slight bow. She turned back forward fiddling with the parts, as Germ adjusted his shirt and jacket.
They soon came to a sharp turn in the water flow and Germ took note of a new and disgusting smell in the air. His nostrils sniffed at the putrid aroma almost involuntarily as they laid their eyes on the source of the odor. The center had most definitely been using the sewer hole for disposal, Germ thought, and it was indeed a waste.
The group stopped to see a heap of bodies that had been caught against the abrupt corner of the flow. The bodies had been stripped of all clothes and valuables, their skin bruised and agitated with repeated injections. Germ had never truly given much thought to what the Cultwick Empire was doing to its citizens, but when he was forced to see their work up close and in the flesh he was disgusted.
Germ dropped to his knees, lurched forward, and vomited into the nearly clogged and stagnant waters. He tried to wipe his snout clean, but he instead retched his insides again. After a few more heaves, Germ spit up the remnants in his mouth and attempted to regain his composure.
“You okay, Germy?” Erynn asked, putting her hand softly on his shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “I apologize for my weakness.”
“That’s not weakness, Germ,” she said, consolingly. “What they’re doing to these people is sick. It’s a shame more people can’t see this. See what’s really going on in that place.”
There were a few moments of silence from the group before Germ stood and said, “We should go.”
The path winded for some ways, Tern illuminating their path forward, and as they got closer to the location they had stashed the bags, Germ could hear more and more commotion up on the surface. “Do you think they’ve connected us to the attack, sir?” he asked.
“Seems possible,” the professor answered. “It’s not every day the Center for Empirical Research is assaulted and freed of all of its lottery winners,” he flouted while looking up at the ceiling of the tunnels. “Though they won’t take kindly to such an action. I suspect they’ll put the Reclamation Bureau on our case.”
“I’ve heard some pretty horrifying things about that office, sir,” Germ said. “Are they really as bad as the rumors?”
“Worse, I’m afraid,” he said. “In my limited interaction with their kind, I witnessed the abominations they were willing to make themselves into. They have a single focused mind - to advance in the church. If you ever meet an operative... run. They are vile people.”
Germ noticeably gulped before asking, “So where will we be going, sir?”
“West,” Rowland succinctly responded. “We’ll go west.”
“There isn’t much law out there,” Erynn added. “I guess that could be both good and bad, but we’ll certainly be better off there than here.”
“Affirmative,” Tern bluntly interjected before continuing, “Addendum: We have arrived at our destination.”
Germ could see the suitcase and the glass of Gerald’s tank reflecting off Tern’s l
ight as they approached. Tern picked up the transparent jar, handing it to Germ, while he wrapped his metallic hand around the case’s handle.
“Input new positional coordinates,” Tern said.
The professor spoke up, “The nearest town in the west is Stonebrook. That’s where we’ll go first.”
“Coordinates confirmed,” Tern responded continuing to lead them down the twisting tunnels, dragging the luggage behind.
“Have you ever been out west, sir?” Germ inquired.
“No,” Rowland replied. “When I was a boy the western areas were just being discovered and being made habitable by Cultwick. As I understand things, the west has changed much over the years. Many people went out west to escape the grasp of the empire, but over the course of time, these same people have been forced to supply Cultwick City with all their goods and resources. They have essentially become indentured servants to the empire.”
“What will we do when we arrive there, sir?” Germ asked. “How will we survive in such a hostile and alien location? I’ve never even seen sand, sir.”
The professor turned to look at the rodent, as though he had never had that thought. “I don’t really know, Germ,” he answered. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there. I just hope we can escape that damned Church of Biosynthesis.”
“Worst case scenario,” Erynn joked, “you could always start your own religion. Rowlandism!”
“That does sound like fun,” the professor said, smiling.
Germ looked down at the irascible potato in his hands and lamented to himself, “Goodbye Cultwick City.”
Chapter 4. Alice the Operative
Operative Alice Page stood in the foyer of Dr. Rowland’s home soaking in everything she could about the people who lived there. She was tasked with hunting them down and bringing them to justice in the name of Cultwick. They had not only refused their obligation to advance the empire, but also flouted extreme disrespect for the church - her church.
Alice had spent her life seeking to rise through the ranks of the church’s extensive hierarchy. She followed their teachings and guidelines in an attempt to become closer to her god.
She had purified herself through biological augmentations and purged herself of the use and need of machines. Her prowess in hunting down and retrieving apostates and heretics was unrivaled in the Reclamation Bureau. She had earned a reputation with her colleagues as an aggressive and cold-blooded woman. She didn’t seem to mind such accusations.
Because this was a very high-visibility case, Alice was brought in at the personal request of the Lord Reverend himself. She couldn’t and wouldn’t fail his grace in this time of need. The heretic, Erynn Clover, would be caught, put on trial, sentenced to death, and Alice would be there when she took her final breath.
Therefore, the operative stood in that room, attempting to make sense of who these three dissenters were. Alice walked through the foyer into a nearby laboratory, her hard, blood red leather, tightly laced-up boots crunching broken glass beneath her feet; her black, floor length, ball gown dragging pieces of splintered wood and debris behind her.
She held both hands crossed at the small of her back, the excess strands lacing up the red, top-tier of her strapless gown tickling at her palm. Her platinum blonde hair piled vertically upon itself into a twisting, curly mass, accentuated with a pink, delicate flower weaved into its side.
Alice’s skin was a pale, pasty white except for a slender vertical slit of red lipstick in the center of both lips and a solid line of black outlining her eyes and extending into sharp curves at the sides.
She looked down at a scene of slaughter on the lab floor, two separate pieces of a cat that she could only expect was some sort of experiment gone awry. She wondered what kind of man this Professor Rowland truly was. Surely, he could have had a promising career if he had only given his mind to the greater purpose of the church's vision.
Scattered about the room were dozens of distinct and separate worktables, each with their own sets of beakers, syringes, and scientific notes. The experiments he was performing must have been wonderful, she thought. She found herself quite impressed at the level of biological augmentation that was going on in his home. Perhaps the girl is to blame for his mistakes, Alice thought.
She returned back to the bombed out living room that the corpsmen had for some reason decided to attack, when there were no living souls inside. She was irritated that they would contaminate her crime scene so fruitlessly. Alice made her way to the stairs leading up, lightly placing a hand on the railing and ascending them with grace, care, and caution.
She found first a room that she quickly decided must have belonged to Professor Rowland, as there were half-used syringes scattered about the room in disarray. He had clearly been here and gathered several items in a hurry. Clothes appeared to be missing from his closet and papers from a worktable had been shuffled around in a panic.
The next room in the hallway was far neater than the previous and also much smaller and plainer. The butler, Germ, as she knew him to be called, must have occupied the room. She understood the rat creature was an amazing experiment of the professor's, and she had read about it some years back when she was still studying at the church's institute.
Apparently, the professor had earned a reward in addition to being offered a lucrative job in the Center for Empirical Research. He declined, it seemed, but she began to find herself aroused by the scientific prowess of the man she investigated.
Germ's room was still mostly in place and she only noted a few missing articles of clothing before moving on. The remainder of the upstairs area was filled with laboratory space where the professor had performed more of his experiments, but she did note, running her finger along a cylindrical tube, that he may have been spending less time in those rooms as the level of dust on the various apparatuses was higher than in the downstairs lab.
Alice wiped clean her hands and began to search for Erynn Clover's room, the lottery winner herself. She eventually found her target's room on the basement level. This room, she noted to herself, was by far the most disorganized and chaotic.
In fact, Alice thought, it looked like something or someone had been in a struggle in this room. The state of the area was far too cluttered to determine if there was anything missing. The room, however, mostly consisted of mechanical parts, and Alice expected this Clover woman had never given any level of respect for the teachings of the church and its good book.
Clearly, she was the piece in this puzzle to receive the blame. Perhaps the church would have some leniency on Professor Rowland and his experiment Germ, but this chromesmithing woman and her mechanical inventions were a taint on the greater workings of Cultwick and the Church of Biosynthesis.
Though chromesmithing wasn’t a new component in the city, many in the church saw them with a certain level of disgust. Those who made these devices and contraptions even more so than those who used them.
Having seen enough at their home, Alice decided to next visit the lab where the professor worked and where, from what she understood, the girl had a laboratory of her own. She made the journey from the mansion to the university - a path that the targets would have walked frequently. Alice took in all the sights along the way, trying to piece together how this young girl could have grown to have such disdain for the place in which she lived.
She passed several upscale restaurants and clothing shops, a postal office, and a railway station that connected to all the major city stops as well as some of the western cities. The buildings she passed along the way were already plastered with wanted posters with Erynn's picture as well as smaller pictures of the professor, his butler, and the automaton.
Periodically a voice would boom over the loudspeakers spread throughout the city, "Remember! It is your duty to turn in the apostate Erynn Clover and her accomplices. If you have any information about their whereabouts, report immediately to the nearest corpsman or to the Reclamation Bureau building. Your government needs you to st
ay vigilant in these difficult times."
Soaring above her were half a dozen skyships. Among them, she spotted several corpsmen vessels that she believed were undoubtedly scouring the city looking for Erynn and the others.
Alice entered the university entrance, winding her way through the halls until she found the professor's office and laboratory. In the corner of the room, she found an out-of-place workbench with mechanical contraptions and parts - clearly used by the Clover woman.
She inspected the pieces lying out in front of her, coming to the conclusion she was building some sort of weapon. Bullets, tubing, and gunpowder were in ample supply, yet not a single syringe or beaker in sight.
“Disgusting,” she said to herself. “She couldn’t have worshiped god, when she spent so much time worshiping her machines.”
Walking across the room, she stopped at a dummy that had been torn apart by bullets and then cleaned and piled up in the corner. Alice reasoned that the woman had a way with the mechanics of guns.
The operative found a list of classes lying on the professor's desk indicating a lecture that was scheduled to start soon. Perhaps some of the students would still show up, she thought. Not everyone pays such close attention to the workings of the government and church - especially students too focused on their own lives. Alice made a note of the room number and walked to the lecture hall where Professor Rowland was soon supposed to be teaching.
The room was a large, empty auditorium that could house up to one hundred students should the need arise. Alice wondered how many students the professor was teaching in his classes, how many young minds he was shaping, and how many he had led away from the teachings of the church. She found a chair behind a desk and took a seat, waiting patiently for students to arrive.
It wasn’t long before a young man and woman entered the room, looking surprised to see her. He asked, "Where's the professor? Are we still meeting today?"