by S. D. Stuart
The man in the wheelchair smiled. “You’re looking at him.”
“You’re the Oracle?”
“Don’t be so surprised.”
“But Tara said the Oracle came from outside OZ. You’re in a…”
William gripped the armrests of his chair. “I wasn’t in this when I came into OZ. I came in on the same airship as Dorothy, but when the pirates attacked I fell out and woke up paralyzed from the waist down. Apparently I landed in a bale of hay, which save my life, but left me like this.”
“She also said you knew the secret of OZ.”
William squinted his eyes. “Is that what the Southern Marshal sent you to get?”
“I’m not sure.”
William motioned to the numerous monitors along the wall. “These things are great at showing me what all the Totos see. But it’s only visual. I don’t have sound. I’ve gotten good at reading lips and I know the Southern Marshal sent the two of you on a quest. Is it for the weapon?”
“How do you know she sent us on a quest?”
“She let you out of the Southern Territories. From what I hear, she never does that. Ever. Are you after the weapon?”
“What do you know about the weapon?”
William laughed heartily. “My boy, it’s why OZ exists.”
That was an unexpected answer. “I thought OZ was a prison.”
William rolled back and forth a couple of inches. “OZ is a prison. But that’s its cover.”
“It’s cover?”
“When the people Dorothy’s father and I worked for discovered that history’s most powerful weapon had been hidden somewhere on the island continent to the south, they decided the best way to keep it safe was to make this a place nobody would willingly go and, if they ever ended up here, would never get out. Dorothy’s father designed OZ so that nobody would come looking for the weapon here. The group we worked for, the Directors, destroyed all the records that pointed to the southern continent as the final resting place of this ancient weapon.”
“Did you say the Directors?”
“Yes. You’ve heard of them?”
“According to the Southern Marshal, they are on their way right now to collect the weapon.”
William frowned. “Why would they do that? They initiated the construction of OZ to keep it safe from the world.”
“More like keep it for themselves. The man who raised me said he was sent by the Directors to locate the weapon. When he found out what it could do, he stalled them for as long as he could.”
“What makes you think the Directors are coming for it?”
“Because Nero said they were. And they’re going to be here in a matter of days. If I don’t get to it first, they will have it. No one person should be able to wield that kind of power.”
“Then why are you looking for it?”
“We have a plan to destroy it. Take it off the board completely.”
William rolled back and forth, deep in thought. “Do you know where the weapon is now?”
“The Southern Marshal was hoping to find out before we made it to the Northern Territories. She thinks it’s somewhere there.”
“Why there?”
“Jasper took it and hid it.”
“Who? I don’t know a Jasper.” William rolled over to the control panel in front of the monitors. He started flipping switches and turning dials. “But I might have an idea of who he is. I can’t send a signal to control the Totos, but I’m able to intercept the transmission back. I can see everything the Southern Marshal is interested in looking at. She has had several Totos following this one boy, but I didn’t know why.”
A picture of a boy eating bread in some alley appeared on the main screen. William looked at him expectantly. “Is that Jasper?”
There was no mistaking the boy who was, at that moment, stuffing chunks of bread into his mouth. “Yeah, that’s him.”
The radio squelched on the wall behind them. William wheeled over to it quickly and flipped a switch. “Is everything set?”
Even through the static, it still sounded like Tara. “Everything’s in place. I will be at the tube in one hour.”
William flipped the switch and the static went silent. “We’re going to help you get to that weapon before the Directors do. But first, we need to get your Tin Man back from the Banshees.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
William swung open the door of a wardrobe. An armored suit, similar to the one given to him by the Southern Marshal, and subsequently taken away by the Banshees, hung in the center of the wardrobe.
William smiled. “Not we. You.”
Chapter 20
Caleb hefted the new suit out of the wardrobe. It was a lot heavier than the last suit.
William rolled back and forth in his wheelchair, clearly excited.
“I originally built the suit for me. For my escape. You’ll notice the hydraulic assists on the joints. With my back broken, and my legs all but useless, I needed a way to walk again. Since you have the full use of your legs, the hydraulic assists will give you increased strength.
“I made a few modifications to Ben’s original design. The jet packs on the back will enable you to fly for extended periods of time. No more just hopping around like a giant flea. It shouldn’t take you too long to get used to it. Should you crash to the ground, don’t worry. The suit will harden and you won’t get anything more than a few bumps and bruises.”
Caleb strapped on the pieces of armor while William helped him clamp the hydraulics in place. William focused on making sure every connection was sealed as he spoke quietly to Caleb.
“I think you should leave Dorothy here with me.”
He couldn’t do that. The Southern Marshal was adamant that Dorothy was needed to open the box that held the weapon.
“She’s important. She has to come with me.”
“I know what’s at stake here, do you?”
What a strange question. He never would have agreed to this if he hadn’t. “Of course I do.”
William glanced over at Dorothy, seated in a dark corner, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. “If she goes along…”
“She has to. She’s the key to all this.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. If you take her with you, you will have to make a choice.”
“A choice? Between what?”
“If I know her father, and I know him better than anyone, he locked the weapon inside a box that only she can open. As long as she lives, the world is in danger.”
He did not like where this was going. “You are not killing her.”
“I won’t be the one killing her. If you get them both together in the same place, you, and you alone, will have to decide which to sacrifice. The world? Or her?”
He looked down at the man in the wheelchair. “She doesn’t have to die.”
William looked back up at him, sadness written over his entire face. “You can’t save both.”
A final click, followed by a hiss of air, signified the suit was ready.
One of the biggest changes over the previous suit was the complete protection offered. From the gloves, to the boots, and every joint, the suit covered him completely with the same hardening material that the previous armored plates were made from. This time, none of him would be exposed. Even better, the helmet, with its mirrored faceplate, hid his face as well as protected his head.
Caleb grabbed the helmet. “Yes I can.”
He snapped on the helmet, locking it in place with a twist.
Tara flinched as the medic rubbed alcohol into the wound on her arm.
The High Priestess stood with her hands on her hips, her back to the roaring fireplace in the single-roomed house of the Oracle.
The High Priestess was eying her with suspicion. “You’re telling me that Melissa attacked you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“That’s interesting. She told me that you attacked her.”
Tara did her best to
look like she was controlling the rage building inside of her. “Who do you believe, ma’am?”
“I’m not sure which one of you to believe.”
Time to put her service record to the ultimate test. “Have I ever given you reason to doubt my loyalties?”
The High Priestess pondered her question silently.
Time to spread it a little thicker. “Who, single-handedly, uncovered and foiled a plot to overthrow you five years ago?”
“We never caught the one who planned everything.”
Time to drive the next nail in the coffin. “Who has turned down every opportunity for promotion?”
The High Priestess looked at Melissa, who leaned against the wall, still dazed from the electric shock. Even though she looked at Melissa, she addressed Tara. “Why do you think that is?”
“She claims it’s so she can stay close to home to care for her ailing mother.”
“She’s not the only one who has refused promotion because of the increased responsibilities and commitment to the organization.”
And… in for the kill. “It also means, there are no official reports on her activities outside the Banshees. Reports that you yourself requested after the failed attempt to end your regime. Refusing promotions kept her low enough in the organization to stay out of your reports. Her activities outside the organization might as well be a secret. A secret you should know.”
From the look in the High Priestess eye, she knew she’d finally touched a nerve. There was one last thing to add to distract everyone long enough for the Southern Marshal’s team to escape.
“And while you’re asking her about that, find out what she did with the Oracle.”
The High Priestess stormed over to Melissa and backhanded her across the face. “No more lies!”
Tara did her best to not let the smile inside register on her face. This was going better than planned. Everyone was so intent on watching the High Priestess interrogate one of their own, nobody noticed Tara slip out the front door.
In a massive natural underground cavern, torches burned brightly at intervals lighting up the entire space. Only deep crevices in the ceiling were still cast deep in shadow.
Caleb extricated himself from the debris of fallen rock. Moments before, he had slammed headfirst into a stalactite on the ceiling and plummeted to the floor of the cavern, rocks and chunks of earth raining down after him.
William was yelling from across the cavern. “Delicate movements! You keep over-correcting.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered to himself as he ended up smearing the damp dirt across the front of the suit, instead of brushing it off.
William was relentless. “I built it to respond to me, and I’m paralyzed from the waist down. You’re going to have to ease up on the controls. Try again.”
Caleb flexed his neck back and forth. The suit did an excellent job of protecting him from the abuse he was putting it through now. He resisted the urge to close his eyes as he tried to envision flying in his mind again.
William tried to explain to him that the suit used biometric input rather than the mechanical input of his previous suit. He didn’t need to crouch to activate this one. He just had to think about activating the flight jets, and magically it happened. William tried his best, and used big words in his attempt to prove it was not magic, about how electrical impulses from his brain were picked up by the helmet and amplified by any movement of his arms and legs.
No matter what William said, it still sounded like magic.
He thought about the jet pack integrated into the suit and rose a couple of feet in the air, hovering in place. He wobbled a lot less this time. Maybe he’d finally gotten the hang of it.
He eased himself forward and made a controlled ascent toward the ceiling. He tried very hard to concentrate on making delicate movements.
On the other side of the cavern, Dorothy held onto the handles on the back of William’s wheelchair. Together, they watched Caleb swooping back and forth through the air.
She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. “I think he’s got it.”
Right then, he clipped a stalactite with his foot and spun out of control, straight for the ground. He hit the ground with such force, the impact cracked the rocky floor.
William shook his head. “Close enough.”
Chapter 21
Caleb, Dorothy, and William stood on a low hill that overlooked Center City.
After several minutes of watching the distant city do nothing, Dorothy said exactly what Caleb was thinking. “What are we waiting for?”
William didn’t take his eyes off the city. “Tara’s signal.”
Caleb peered through the tinted glass of his helmet. “What kind of signal are we waiting…”
He never finished his sentence as an explosion erupted on the outer edge of the city.
William pointed at the flames and black smoke that rolled skyward, as if everyone else had missed it. “There’s the signal, and the diversion. Your robot is inside a warehouse on the opposite end of the city. You should meet with minimum resistance since everyone will be dealing with the fire.”
Caleb took a deep breath when William placed a hand on his forearm. “Dorothy will be waiting for you at the tube. It will take you all the way to some friends in the Northern Territories.”
“Are they going to help me?”
“I’ve explained to them what’s at stake. They might still need a little convincing, but I think they will help.”
William didn’t sound too sure. “They will help? Or you think they will help?”
William poked him in the chest. “Just remember, you have the suit. It will protect you from any blunt force or piercing weapon. And it’s been grounded to protect you from an electrical discharge weapon, like the gauntlets of the Banshees. I’m afraid it has no offense capabilities. I designed it primarily for escape, not really for combat.”
Dorothy perked up at hearing this. “He could always just ram himself into the enemy.”
William cracked a smile. “That’s not a bad idea.”
He slapped Caleb on the back, the suit absorbing the impact. “Now go, Tara’s distraction won’t keep them occupied forever.”
Thank goodness for the mirrored faceplate on his helmet. It meant they could not see the worried look on his face. He took several steps away, he didn’t want to burn them with the jet thrust, and imagined rocketing off valiantly into the sky.
He wanted to look the part of the hero as he flew to the rescue of the Tin Man. But the picture was ruined as his arms flailed about wildly while he spiraled up into the sky and arced toward the city.
The lack of a ceiling in the clear, open sky was the only thing keeping him from crashing into something. He focused on smooth, delicate movements and drew his arms in tightly.
He stopped corkscrewing through the air and actually managed to look like he knew what he was doing as he flew over the city wall.
The billowing smoke was to his right, so he angled slightly to the left, heading for the other side of the city where the Tin Man was waiting to be rescued.
Below him, Tara ran through the city opposite the throngs of people who ran against her, like a storm swelled river, to get a better view of the most exciting thing to happen in several months. Still dressed in her Banshee uniform, those that saw her quickly gave her right-of-way. Unfortunately, most of the people were fixated on the column of black smoke rising from the edge of the city and bumped into her without so much as an apology. She contemplated shocking a path ahead of her through the crowd with her gauntlet, but decided against drawing that much attention to the fact that she was running away.
The explosion had been much bigger than anticipated and the resulting fire was spreading quickly. She had very little time before she would have to explain what she was doing running away instead of helping to put the fires out.
She breathed a sigh relief as she reached the warehouse where the automaton was being kept. It was a large square bui
lding set apart from the rest of the buildings around it. She fished the key she had stolen out of a pocket and had just inserted it in the lock on the door when a roaring sound came up quickly behind her. She instinctively ducked out of the way just before something crashed through the door and disappeared into the warehouse.
She peeked around the splintered door frame at someone in a suit of armor picking himself up off the floor. This must be the suit the Oracle spoke of. The man in the suit spotted her and immediately adopted a defensive stance.
She stepped fully through the shattered doorway and kept her hands down at her side. She couldn’t see through the mirrored faceplate, but the Oracle had informed her who to expect. “It’s me, Tara. Are you the lion man?”
His voice echoed out through the breathing slots in his helmet as he inspected her more carefully and visibly relaxed. “Yes.”
She nodded and pointed in the same direction she started walking. “Your robot is this way.”
She crossed into the next room and froze, Caleb bumping into her from behind. He angled to the side to see why she had stopped so suddenly.
Standing between them and the Tin Man, was the High Priestess with ten Banshees on her right, and another ten on her left.
Chapter 22
Caleb and Tara faced down twenty Banshees in the middle of the warehouse. Just beyond them he could see the Tin Man locked up in a massive iron cage. Why was he standing in the dead center of his cage?
The bars looked thin enough that the Tin Man would have no problem prying them apart. The cages should have been able to contain its prisoner. But he wasn’t trying to escape.
A small arc of electricity leaped from one bar to the next on the Tin Man’s cage with a snapping sound. Well, that explained it. The bars, although thin and widely spaced, were electrified. The safest place was definitely the dead center of the cage.