Something Stinks in Deep Cove (The Vellian Books Book 4)

by Reed, Grant T.

  “Yes, let’s go,” chimed in Merle. He removed himself from the doorway, allowing P.C. to exit.

  “Where… are… we… going?” rattled P.C.

  “To the Potty’s plant,” replied Merle. “Your new master can pay for your repairs and have that detergent refilled.”

  “Okay,” agreed P.C. He stepped from the carriage and grunted at Stoneman when he saw the golem standing there with his hostage. Merle took to the air, and Johnny and Stoneman were quick to follow from below. “Hey… wait… for… me!” shouted P.C. He slapped at his head as if to clear it of an unwanted ringing. “Do… you… guys… hear… dogs… barking?”

  * * * *

  Azi lazed on a couch in the lobby of the Peacock Feather. It was nine forty-five at night, but it felt like two in the morning. ‘One more day,’ she thought to herself, ‘and then I can go home.’ She had left her friend Natalie in charge of her apartment and her little dog. She missed them both dearly. ‘Poor little Fonn, he probably won’t even remember me.’ Thoughts of her puppy made her melancholy, and she resisted the urge to pull the return ticket from her pocket. In front of her, the hotel’s public G.V. unit was airing a re-run of an old movie she had no interest in. She reached for the remote on the stack of magazines beside her and was about to turn the unit off, when Alex jumped onto the couch beside her.

  “Hello sweetness,” he breathed in her ear. His hand ran down her leg, but she was quick to slap it away.

  She sat up straight, adjusting her top, so that he could not see down it. “Alex,” she exclaimed. “I was just about to head up to bed.”

  “That sounds really fun,” whispered the dark haired man, “maybe I can join you?”

  She rolled her eyes playfully at him, and then kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Honey,” she said, “we’ll be married soon enough. You know the rules.” Alex sat up and crossed his arms over his chest, sulking. “Besides, what would your mother say?”

  “My mother would say it was about time,” he returned with a dark scowl.

  “Yes, I forgot how much she distrusts me,” agreed Azi.

  “You know,” said Alex, moving in close again, his lips searching for her neck, “With father out of the picture, we don’t have to wait until we are married.”

  Azi let him kiss her neck, and then gave him a brief hug. She pushed him back. “Alex, we have been over this. Your father was not the only one who was old fashioned. I want to do this right. I plan on wearing a white wedding dress,” she said with meaning.

  Alex sighed. “Alright,” he conceded. “Shall I walk you to your room?”

  Azi nodded and aimed the remote at the G.V., and then she stopped. ‘Breaking News,’ flashed across the screen in bright red letters, and the old movie was replaced by a scene of a field with spotlights crisscrossing the open area. A reporter stood with her back to the lights as she spoke into the G.V. Azi turned up the volume, and both her and Alex’s full attention was given to the newscast.

  The background was filled by a loud siren, and the reporter covered one ear as she spoke into her voice enhancer. “This is Liz Stumpy, reporting for Channel Twenty-four news, and we have a breaking story we are following. Word is, there has been a prison break at Rockhaven Penitentiary this evening, with at least four inmates missing. It appears that inmate John Irwin Quail, more famously known by his arena name of Johnny I.Q, along with his massive golem Stoneman, have destroyed several sections of the prison in their bid for freedom.” A black and white picture of Johnny holding up his prison number flashed across the screen, followed by a wider angle shot of Stoneman posing in much the same fashion.

  “The escapees busted through that wall behind me and crossed the courtyard here. John Quail then had his golem attack the guard tower, toppling the structure onto this fence, allowing him and the others to escape from the grounds.” She motioned to the collapsed tower, a few feet behind her.

  “Mr. Quail was sentenced to six months in Rockhaven on the third of this month, and according to prison officials, has been doing his time quietly up until the breakout this evening. Johnny’s cellmate, a resident of Deep Cove, is also believed to be missing. Merle the dragon was likewise sentenced to Rockhaven on several charges, including negligent homicide of the entrepreneur, Alex Potty Senior, earlier this month.” Now a black and white photo of Merle, trying to hide behind his prison number filled the screen.

  “Oh no,” breathed Azi, her mouth hanging open. “What have you done, Merle?” Alex looked stunned as he turned at his fiancé’s words. Shaking his head in disbelief, he looked back at the G.V.

  “A third man, Marcus O’Bitterson of Mayfield, is also missing. O’Bitterson was serving a three year sentence at Rockhaven for corporate espionage. It is not certain whether O’Bitterson was aiding in the escape or whether the other two men have escorted him off in a hostage scenario. Preliminary reports seem to indicate Mr. O’Bitterson was taken, against his will.” Several armed guards crossed the field in the background, all of them dressed in riot gear.

  The reporter jammed a finger in her free ear and nodded before raising the voice enhancer and speaking again. ‘We’re going to take you live, now, to the Four Ways Crossroad outside of Deep Cove, where we have James Tithers standing by, with another developing aspect of this story.’

  The scene on the global view shifted to a dark skinned man with a thin goatee. He was standing beside an upturned carriage. A guard with a leashed and straining german shepherd was circling the paddy wagon.

  “Thank you, Liz,” said this new reporter. “It appears, the fleeing convicts waited in ambush, here at the Four Ways Crossroads this evening, where they then accosted this prison conveyance in order to free a fifth member of their gang. I have the driver, Officer Turnam, here with me. Can you tell us what happened tonight?”

  The camera shifted to include a smaller man in a rumpled driver’s uniform. The little man nodded. “They came out of the darkness and blocked my path. I swear, I have never seen anything so big as that stone man. He darn near took up the whole road himself. They demanded I hand over the prisoner, and I refused. One of the men ordered the golem to smash the yoke, which he did, and the horses ran free. He said he was going to kill me, so I had no choice but to run. I mean it, that thing was huge and he was bearing down on me.”

  “It’s alright, Officer Turnam. No one can fault you for abandoning your post in the face of such odds. Can you tell us what happened next?

  The driver nodded, his eyes big with the memory of the events. “That stone man picked up the whole carriage above his head, as if it were nothing. Then he heaved it down the road where it landed on its roof. He pulled the door from its hinges, and they all took off into the night.”

  “And the prisoner you were transporting, Mr. Turnam, can you tell us who it was?”

  “Oh yes sir,” it was that other murdering golem, the Germinator. He was being transported up to the foundry to be properly disposed of!”

  “Dire news indeed,” said James.

  James, the driver, and the upturned carriage disappeared as the focus went back to Liz. “Thank you, James. We are now sending you live to Jill Wen with yet another breaking development in this story.”

  Once again the scene shifted, and this time an oriental woman became visible in the camera’s lights. She stood on the beach, with the soaring cliffs of the Deep Cove harbor back-dropping the scene. “Yes, Liz, this story continues to unfold around us. We now have confirmation that the two inmates and their golems have indeed taken Marcus O’Bitterson, as a hostage.” Behind the reporter, three guards and their dogs came down a narrow trail, from up on the cliffs. “Prison guards, in conjunction with city police, have chased the escapees to this location, the very facilities where Alex Potty Senior was murdered, twenty-four nights ago.”

  Azi’s hand shot up to cover her mouth in surprise. She rubbed at her temples as Alex turned to her.

  “They’re coming for us. We have to get out of here!” hissed the man.

&nb
sp; Azi was quiet for a minute, and then shook her head. “If you run, people will start to believe his story. You already beat him in court. Stay calm. Folks will see this as a desperate move, by a desperate convict. The police will take care of the golems, you’ll see.” She stood and offered her hand to pull him off the couch.

  “You’re going to bed?” he asked disbelievingly.

  “Of course not!” she snapped. “I’m going to get my jacket, and then you and I are going up to that plant to assist the police, in any way we can.”

  Alex sighed. “I guess you’re right.” he admitted. “I might as well bring Mother. She will have to learn how to interact with these people, if she is going to manage the plant.” The two of them walked off briskly, the G.V. still reporting the newscast behind them.

  “Police have cornered the inmates in the lower tunnel leading from the water treatment facility, and a standoff is developing as the two hunted convicts are now threatening to dispatch their hostage unless their terms are met.”

  * * * *

  The tunnel P.C. had excavated was adjacent to the evacuation pipes of the water treatment plant. It was not a broad tunnel, and Stoneman was forced at times to widen it to make room for himself and the hostage he carried. Johnny was careful, issuing his commands so as not to have Marcus used as a tunneling device. Half way up the seventy foot enclosure, Stoneman stopped to bash his way through another chunk of stone, when a horrible vibration filled their passage with a rumbling that shook the walls around them.

  “What have you done?” cried Johnny, looking at his giant golem. Stoneman shrugged in the weak light.

  “Listen!” hissed Merle. The sound of rushing water came to them all. Suddenly their passage was flooded with over a foot of cold water that raced down from above. Johnny was about to flee down the tunnel, when he realized the flow was not gaining in intensity.

  “It’s the evacuation chamber,” said Merle shrewdly. He tapped the massive pipe beside them. “The chamber is emptying, above us. P.C.’s tunnel has created a leak in the process.” The noise and vibration continued for several minutes and the men stayed put, uncertain if they would have to flee for the safety of the beach below. The echoing bark from one of the tracking dogs entered the lower tunnel and Merle waved his troupe forward. “Come on.” At the top of the passage, yellow police tape crisscrossed the opening, warning people to not cross over. Merle slashed at the tape, his sharp claws easily severing the restraining material.

  Once inside, the two escapees, their golems, and their hostage found themselves in a wide chamber with a deep pool of brackish water. A ten foot high walkway of cement surrounded this substantial pool, and a yellow railing enclosed the footpath. Two doors led from the chamber, one on the opposite side of the men and one at the top of a series of steps, at the back of the chamber. From his plant tour, Merle knew the door to the left led to the lower hall with the medical station, and the door at the back led to the switch room, then further back to the pumping station, and then the other four water chambers.

  “You’re covered in yellow stuff!” cackled Johnny.

  As if on cue, an overhead pipe expunged a stream of yellow powder into the newly filled pool below. Johnny coughed and gagged as he was engulfed in a yellow cloud. “My allergies!” he wailed. The cloud receded, and he looked at his own dark outfit, now layered in yellow powder. He sneezed and made half an attempt to clean himself.

  “Just let me go,” whined Marcus. “I swear, you’ll never see me again.”

  “Stoneman, shut him up,” snapped Johnny. He removed his glasses and wiped the powder from his face before blowing on each of the lenses to clear them. Stoneman turned without hesitation and bashed his prisoner into the wall. The bed frame took the brunt of the blow, but Marcus squealed in pain anyway. “Be gentle, my pet,” admonished Johnny, replacing his glasses. “Only give him a little rattle, at first,” he shook his fist like he was angry. Stoneman watched him and then vibrated Marcus in the same fashion. Johnny nodded. “If that doesn’t work, then you bash him.”

  “Hey!” wailed Marcus. Stoneman crunched him into the wall again.

  “Johnny, you need to pay attention!” hissed Merle. Johnny turned and nodded. “They’re right behind us. You need to hold this tunnel entrance, at all costs. Don’t let them come in here.”

  “Even with one hand, old Stoneman can take care of those coppers!” replied Johnny with confidence.

  Merle shook his head. “Don’t hurt anyone. Use Marcus to bargain with them. I only need you to buy me some time. If I can find what I am looking for, and you restrain yourself from doing anything stupid, then we will be in a much better position. I can’t promise you they won’t take us back to prison, but the nicer you play, the better our case.”

  “Got you. Don’t hurt the cops. Use Marcus to keep them out. Only kill him if I have to.” He counted off Merle’s points on his fingers. Marcus looked like he was about to complain, but thought better of it.

  “Good enough,” agreed Merle, flapping his way to the left hand door and the lower hallway. “Come on, P.C.”

  The metal man raced after the dragon. “Where’s… my… refill?” he inquired.

  “Right this way,” said Merle, motioning at the security door. “Do your thing, and open this door.” P.C.’s motors whirred as he raced in behind the dragon and turned the door handle. The door opened. “Oh,” said the dragon. “I figured it would be locked.” Turning back to Johnny, he waggled a finger at the young man. “Remember, no one gets in through that tunnel.” Johnny waved and went back to his lecture on how to discipline Marcus if their hostage got out of hand.

  Merle led P.C. through the lower hall, past the medical station and through the cafeteria above. Taking a right hand passage, he came to the secured door, leading into the offices. He glanced at the light above the door and noted it was blinking red. “Okay, now you can do your thing. Open this one.”

  P.C. stepped forward and tried the handle. The door did not budge. “Damn… it!” he swore and smashed his elbow into the glass.

  Cracks spiderwebbed across the unit and Merle shuddered. “No!” he whispered loudly. “That’s not what I meant. Can’t you open the door by emulating Azilda’s voice?”

  “Yes,…why… didn’t… you… say… so?”

  Merle sighed, but he was exuberant nonetheless. “P.C. input command, open this door by emulating Azilda Willigins.”

  Azi’s feminine voice spilled from the robot, “Security, Azi Willigins.” The blinking red light turned green and a click announced the door had been unlocked.

  “I knew it!” squealed Merle in delight. Espying the wooden door stop in the corner, he kicked it into place under the door frame. The lights in the office came on as they entered the secured area. He led P.C. through the hallways until they reached Alex Senior’s office. The light above the door here was also red. “Can you open this door too?” asked Merle.

  “What’s… in… it… for… me?” asked P.C.

  “Did you ask Alex Junior that when he used you to open the doors?” shot back Merle.

  “I’ve… got… better… things… to… do,” said P.C. He turned to leave.

  “Wait!” cried Merle. “There’s a desk in here that is positively coated with dust!

  “Really?” inquired P.C. spinning back to the door.

  “You bet!” exclaimed Merle. “P.C. input command open this door by emulating Alex Potty Senior. The old man’s voice rattled from the robot’s mouth, and Merle yanked the door open. The lights flared to life, and Merle gazed about the abandoned office.

  “Eww… you’re… right!” exclaimed P.C. He produced his filthy rag and attacked the large wooden desk at the far end of the office.

  Ancient swords lined the walls, and several military devices were set up in display cases throughout the room. Two suits of antique oriental armor were exhibited against the wall behind Senior’s desk. Merle counted six ships in bottles on the shelves. “The Merman’s Maid” he read on one of the bo
ttles. Taking in the rest of the room, he shook his head. “Come on, P.C. No one’s been in here for weeks.”

  P.C. shook his rag out, and a cloud of dust filled the air. The automaton sighed. “I… can’t… clean… under… these… circumstances.”

  “I know, buddy,” agreed Merle. “Let’s check Azilda’s office for some clean rags.”

  “Okay!” said P.C., perking up. He tossed his useless cloth over his shoulder and barged past the dragon.

  Again, the lights came on as they entered Azi’s office. This room was sparsely decorated and lacked the expression of Old Man Potty’s room. The walls were bare, with only one small painting of a vase of flowers. A tall shelf housed many manuals. Merle went to this and thumbed through the manuscripts. P.C. ambled to the woman’s desk and began opening drawers. Tossing the contents out, he searched for a replacement rag. Firing the drawer into the wall, the robot groaned. “She… never… was… one… for… cleaning,” he said.

  Merle looked over and was about to comment when he noticed a notebook that had fallen from the drawer. It was blue, and the exact size Merle was looking for. “You found it!” he said cheerily.

  “Are… you… daft?” asked P.C. “There… are… no… cleaning… supplies… here.”

  Merle flapped to the desk and pointed at the curtains covering the window. “Use those,” he said, barely paying attention to the miffed robot. P.C. whirred with excitement as he tore the coverings from the wall.

  Merle grabbed the notebook and could not keep the smile from his face as he recognized Garrett’s handwriting. Flipping through the book, he stopped when he came to the pages listing all of the known commands for the automaton. Licking a claw he flipped the page and traced down the lines of writing with his finger. “Here it is,” he said, tapping the book. “Code three seven eight…”

  “Human… in… distress,” finished P.C. for him. The robot sighed in ecstasy as he ripped another section from the curtain. He stuffed the new rag into his chest cavity and turned back to the wall for the other curtain.