Rivers of Fire

by Patrick Carman

Eeeeeek! Eeeeeek! The Crat were circling very close, and Vincent was having trouble snapping them all away with his whip. Sir William saw one dart into the light and come for his legs. He kicked with all his might and sent the creature flying into Mead's Hollow. He'd had enough.

  Sir William had been shoving Lord Phineus toward the opening until finally the captive tumbled in, grabbing the ladder to steady himself. Sir William descended after him,

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  forcing him farther down with the heel of his boot, until the two of them were through and only Vincent remained in Mead's Hollow.

  As Vincent made his way toward the opening, Atherton began to shake, moving like a rolling earthquake. The motion knocked Vincent right off his feet. The Crat were bowled over as well, disoriented and unable to attack. One of the Crat tumbled into the hole, landing on its feet next to Lord Phineus. It bit once and Lord Phineus shrieked, kicking the awful creature against one of the walls. The lone Crat darted into a corner, looking for a dark place to hide.

  Vincent crawled toward the hole, rolling off course as he went, until finally he reached the yellow ladder. When he was almost all the way inside, he looked back. He could not see the water but he could hear it coming. He took the door by a handle on the inside and he flung it down over his head, shutting himself and the others away.

  As Vincent neared the bottom, he saw that the lone Crat was huddled in the corner of a long corridor. Vincent uncurled his whip and snapped at the Crat until it lay lifeless.

  "How lovely," said Lord Phineus, a viscous sarcasm in his voice, "that you're always here to protect us."

  Vincent had a very real desire to turn his whip on Lord Phineus.

  "That way," said Dr. Kincaid, seizing control of the situation. He pointed down a corridor that looked to Edgar as if it sloped downward. The entire floor along the way was illuminated from the bottom with soft orange light. It was a stone

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  floor, but it held wide, clear sections of what appeared to be a murky sort of glass.

  "There's no place for him to hide," said Dr. Kincaid, staring at Lord Phineus. "Let him lead the way, and keep a close eye on him."

  Vincent snapped his whip, startling Lord Phineus into motion, and the group began to move forward, toward where the light fell away.

  Edgar fell into step beside Dr. Kincaid and the two walked in silence for a minute or two. When Edgar spoke, he chose his words carefully.

  "How did Lord Phineus know how to open the door?" asked Edgar, a new thought rising in his mind. "Did he lock Dr. Harding down here?"

  Dr. Kincaid smiled and pulled on his big earlobe, looking down at the boy.

  "I believe he did just that," said Dr. Kincaid.

  ***

  "Mulciber, is it?" whispered Sir Emerik. He had long since abandoned his torch and traveled in utter darkness and quiet through Mead's Hollow. He had stayed close to the others all along, but he'd hung back when they reached the round yellow door--far enough away to avoid the circle of Crat, but near enough to hear the word. "Mulciber!"

  The water had come like a flood, but Mead's Hollow was vast and empty and it would take a great deal of water to fill it.

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  Sir Emerik stood in an inch of liquid that sloshed at his boots, listening for the sound of the Crat.

  "I shall wait a moment, until they've moved away from the door."

  There was only one thing that remained in Sir Emerik's mind. One task he must complete before dying, for he knew he was terribly ill, that the Crat had poisoned him beyond repair. He would die, but not before taking his revenge on the one who'd ruined him. Sir Emerik ground his teeth together and reached down into the water, spinning the dials to spell the word that would let him in. He felt the door move on the last letter, wrenching it up with all his strength.

  I must kill that wretched boy, Edgar.

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  *** CHAPTER 17 DR HARDING'S LABORATORY

  The group of three children, three adults, and one raving madman walked the orange corridor for a few minutes and found that it was quickly descending deeper into the ground. Chunks of stone had fallen from the ceiling and the walls, and they had to maneuver around them.

  "Where are we, Dr. Kincaid?" asked Edgar. He had maintained his position next to the old man, hoping to gather some clues to their whereabouts. Samuel and Isabel were near, listening carefully as the two spoke.

  After a few steps more in silence Dr. Kincaid offered a little something. "Inside Atherton."

  Edgar pondered the idea of the two words. Inside Atherton. It was a very big idea that he didn't know how to begin exploring.

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  Dr. Kincaid went on. "You remember all our conversations about Dr. Harding and the Dark Planet?"

  "Tell me again, won't you?" said Edgar. He wanted Samuel, Isabel, and Sir William to overhear so they would understand as he did that Atherton was not what it seemed.

  Dr. Kincaid glanced back at the others watching him. They needed to know--not everything, but something --and now was the perfect time to tell them.

  "The Dark Planet was dying," said Dr. Kincaid as they descended the long corridor. "But there was a young man, Dr. Harding-- very smart--who found a way to make a new world. While the Dark Planet grew darker, the place Dr. Harding made grew larger. It was filled with clean air and water and all sorts of magnificent inventions."

  He had almost gotten lost in his thoughts for a moment, but now he stopped and stared at Edgar, Isabel, and Samuel. "Dr. Harding created Atherton. He brought you all here and made you forget your terrible past. And then, for reasons I don't understand, he mysteriously disappeared."

  Samuel, Isabel, and Sir William didn't know what to say. They'd thought it was possible from the bits and pieces they'd gotten from Edgar. But the plain truth of it was like being hit over the head with a heavy object. Atherton was made by a man, Dr. Harding, and the man had vanished. And what was more, Atherton was not their true home, the Dark Planet was.

  Dr. Kincaid felt he had said enough. He left the group and moved quickly up the corridor to where Vincent kept a watchful eye on their prisoner.

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  [Image: Atherton.]

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  A "Lord Phineus," said Dr. Kincaid. Lord Phineus had been hobbling along mindlessly and hadn't looked back as they walked the corridor. But when he stopped and peered back intoDr. Kincaid's eyes, the light in the room seemed to turn him into a monster. His mind was flooded with the sickness of the Crat, sweat beading down his pallid face and dripping from his chin.

  "We come to the very place where you locked him away, do we not?" questioned Dr. Kincaid. "It is here we shall find the good Dr. Harding."

  Lord Phineus was unmoved. "I'm not taking you in there," he said coldly.

  Dr. Kincaid nodded at Vincent and he uncoiled the whip. "You treat me like an animal!" screamed Lord Phineus. "I won't have it!"

  He lunged for Dr. Kincaid, but Vincent cracked the whip and Lord Phineus jumped back.

  "Take him," said Vincent, looking to Sir William.

  "Wait a moment." It was Dr. Kincaid. He moved closer to Lord Phineus, almost close enough to touch him. "Your time has come to an end," he said. "There is no escaping me."

  A change came over Lord Phineus, as if he was only just realizing that something drastic had occurred. Without the aid of anyone pushing or pulling him along, he advanced three or four more steps. The orange corridor made a sharp turn to the right and Lord Phineus disappeared around the corner.

  Everyone followed warily behind him. There was another corner, and another, each one turning back against itself until

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  Edgar came around a last one. He entered a vast room that took his breath away.

  The room was shaped like a giant rectangle, and throughout it were columns, each extending ten feet wide, filled with books, thousands upon thousands of books. The light on the floor had grown more yellow, almost white, glowing from behind cloudy, thick glass. But in this room, the floor
was covered in numbers--five-digit numbers, scrawled wildly all over the immense floor before Edgar. Light from below shone straight through the numbers in the floor and their shadows struck the ceiling. The ceiling was lower here, only a foot or two over Dr. Kincaid's head, and it was white like the stone used to make Mead's Head. Edgar gazed above him at the countless rows of five numbers, eerie in their crudeness and random shape and size, that filled every part of the ceiling.

  "What is this place?" said Sir William. "It looks like the home of a lunatic."

  "How right you are," said Dr. Kincaid. "As Edgar could tell you, all of these numbers unlock something different in Dr. Harding's brain. Each one hides an invention, a process. These numbers are the keys that unlock the mysteries of Atherton, but only one person can use them."

  Along the walls of the room there were stone tables and instruments Edgar could not understand. Lord Phineus stood facing away from them, gazing at something on one of the tables. Sir William and Vincent were directly behind Lord Phineus, watching for any sudden movements.

  "Where's Dr. Harding?" said Edgar. Samuel and Isabel were

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  standing nearby, listening for an answer. The three of them thought maybe Dr. Harding was hidden behind one of the columns, or perhaps he was dead, left alone for too long in this madhouse of a laboratory. They were very curious to observe him.

  Dr. Kincaid looked at all three of the children, smiled awkwardly, and then pointed toward Lord Phineus. "He is there, of course."

  "Where? I don't see him," said Isabel. But Edgar had already put two and two together. He looked at Lord Phineus who was tinkering with something at the table.

  "Lord Phineus and Dr. Harding are one and the same," said Edgar. "How can that be?"

  Dr. Kincaid nearly laughed. "Could it be any other way?"

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  ***

  CHAPTER 18 UNLOCKING DR HARDING'S BRAIN

  "You can't have him back," said Lord Phineus, his voice creeping into the room with a familiar, maddening tone. "His mind is gone. It belongs to me now."

  Dr. Kincaid dropped to one knee and spoke to Isabel, Samuel, and Edgar as if they were younger than they really were.

  "I must talk to him alone," he said to them. "You may look around and touch the books, but don't play with the things on the stone tables, and don't wander off too far."

  Samuel went immediately to the columns of books, while Isabel and Edgar walked past the first of many tables to gaze at the tools and strange objects. They were lost in a world of someone else's making. There were containers of dirt and rocks and seeds. There were models of Atherton at various stages carved from wood and clay and drawings on countless pieces of paper.

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  Many of the drawings and models were of things that looked frightening: weird plants and trees, winged creatures, Cleaners. Soon Isabel and Edgar drifted apart, each compelled to look in different directions of the vast laboratory.

  Dr. Kincaid advanced across the room and stood with Vincent and Sir William. "Leave me with him," he said. "There are things he and I need to discuss."

  Sir William began to protest, but Vincent knew better. He guided Samuel's father several steps away, far enough to give the two men of science some space, but near enough that they could pounce on Lord Phineus if necessary.

  Dr. Kincaid had no fear of Lord Phineus and came very near to him. But Lord Phineus lurched back against the stone table as if he were trying to keep away from someone who could hurt him.

  "Something has happened to the man who built this place," said Dr. Kincaid. "Something that made him lock the yellow door so that he could not be found."

  "Stop talking to me," said Lord Phineus. He clapped his hands over his ears. "You can't have him back! Don't you see? There are things he can't know, things that will drive him mad!"

  "What would make him lock the door?" repeated Dr. Kincaid, pulling as he often did on his drooping ear. "He burned all the journals and with them all the numbers. But he could not burn the numbers in this room, could he?"

  Lord Phineus had been averting his eyes from the host of shadowy numbers that hovered like dark clouds above him.

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  And yet he had not been able to avoid them. There were too many. The numbers, Mead's Head come to life in the form of Dr. Kincaid, the bite from the Crat--all these things were starting to break Lord Phineus wide open, revealing another man.

  "Why don't you look at the ceiling, Dr. Harding?"

  "Stop talking to me!" said Lord Phineus. "Atherton is mine and mine alone. You can't have it back!"

  "Oh, but I can, and I will," vowed Dr. Kincaid. And then he began reading the numbers on the ceiling out loud, first in a whisper and then a dull voice, and finally, he was yelling the numbers with all his might.

  "54329.21395.44350.88604!56123!43986!"

  "Dr. Kincaid, that's enough!" cried Vincent, afraid of pushing too hard and destroying Dr. Harding, along with everything else on Atherton. "He's not unbreakable. He's still a man."

  Lord Phineus had sagged closer and closer to the floor as each number cut deeper through the black fog surrounding his mind. The fog had cleared little by little at the sound of every number, revealing trap door after trap door opening into knowledge he'd hidden away.

  But Vincent was right, Dr. Kincaid had to stop, for some of those doors held dense pockets of information that even a brilliant mind could barely contain. Dr. Harding's reentry into the world was happening much too fast, and it threatened to kill the already weakened man who lay slumped on the floor in front of Dr. Kincaid.

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  Vincent lifted Lord Phineus's head, holding him steady. He appeared to be unconscious and he was pale as a ghost. "You've gone too far," said Vincent, looking at Dr. Kincaid. "He's no good to us if we drive him insane."

  But Dr. Kincaid was unmoved. He reached his hand back and slapped Lord Phineus hard on the face, then held him by the chin and said his true name with untold authority.

  "You are Dr. Maximus Harding, and you will come out!"

  Lord Phineus opened his bloodshot eyes and stared at the man before him. He coughed and touched his face where he'd been hit. And then he spoke.

  "What have you done, Dr. Kincaid?"

  "I've woken you up," said Dr. Kincaid with a smile. "It's so very good to see you."

  Dr. Harding shook his head and rubbed his eyes as though he'd been sleeping for a year, then he rose to his feet with great effort. Everything about him was changed. He was still sick -- so very, very sick--but he was no longer Lord Phineus. His expression had always been cruel even in his kindest moments, but the cruelty had vanished, replaced by solemn regret, something that didn't belong on the face of Lord Phineus.

  "Why, Maximus? Why did you do this?" asked Dr. Kincaid.

  "Because of you," said Dr. Harding. He leaned heavily against the stone table at his back. "And the boy."

  Dr. Kincaid suddenly wished he could be alone with Dr. Harding. He didn't want Vincent or anyone else to hear about this most delicate part of their complicated history.

  Dr. Harding seemed to be getting a little of his strength

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  back. He rubbed the sweat out of his eyes and his expression grew stern. "After everything I did for you," he said. "For them!"

  Them, Dr. Kincaid knew, were the rulers of the Dark Planet who had demanded so much. It was true. Dr. Harding had been terribly used, especially near the end.

  "I didn't intend for things to develop as they did," admitted Dr. Kincaid.

  "You were supposed to protect me," said Dr. Harding, the words coming out like those of a young boy who'd been betrayed. He scratched fiercely at his leg, and when his hand came back out from beneath his robe, it was covered in blood.

  Dr. Kincaid felt ashamed. The boy genius he had found so long ago was terribly injured in every way a man could be. Mind, body, and spirit were broken, and it was Dr. Kincaid's fault.

  "I didn't know they would use you that way," said
Dr. Kincaid. "I told them not to push you so hard, to let you rest. But they wouldn't listen. I told them even a brilliant mind can be broken if it's not cared for. Especially a brilliant mind."

  "Why did you do it?" asked Dr. Harding. He was back at the topic of the boy, Dr. Kincaid could tell, and he tried to veer him off the subject.

  "What's going to happen to Atherton?"

  "Where is the boy?" demanded Dr. Harding. He was unmoved in his resolve to discuss the matter.

  "How do we overcome the Cleaners?" shouted Dr. Kincaid. "You must tell me, or everyone will perish!"

  There was a drawn-out silence. Dr. Harding leaned against the stone table for support.

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  [Image: The stone tables.]

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  He was growing weaker, though his mind was refreshed. He looked at the ceiling, rolling equations over in his mind and thinking of all that he had created. He was a gentle man, nothing like Lord Phineus, and he loved the feeling of his mind filling with knowledge.

  "The Crat have bitten me, haven't they?" asked Dr. Harding, coming to a number that opened his mind and showed him how he had created the Crat. Dr. Kincaid nodded silently, wishing it were not true.

  "Well, then," continued Dr. Harding. A quiet understanding had overtaken him. "It's only a matter of time. You know that."

  Suddenly, there came the sound of shouting from Samuel and Isabel, who were running through the laboratory, darting back and forth between columns. The big room was full of echoes and it wasn't until the two were very near that they could be understood.

  "He's been taken!" cried Isabel. She was in a high state of panic. "Edgar's been taken!"