Frivlok (Appointments on Plum Street Book 2)

by Eli Ingle

  “Why can’t I feel it?” he asked. “Whatever it is?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “But whatever it is that’s in there, it’s mine.” Her eyes blazed as she said this.

  “What’s in there?” Rigel wondered.

  “I’m not sure,” she said evenly. “I do think, though, that it’s something that could very well help us to get our hands on the weapons we’ve come looking for.”

  Curious, but unable to think of anything else of use to say, Rigel went back to the cart where their dinner was cooking. Rona remained at the gate, staring hungrily at the carnival.

  When the food was cooked, it was passed around and eaten. It was some kind of tough, protein-filled stew, although Rigel had trouble making out the ingredients. Rona remained at the gate, despite their coaxing for her to come back.

  Eventually, Rigel climbed off the cart and forced the bowl into her hands. She ate, still staring inside.

  “You’re worrying me,” he said.

  She gave him a sideways glance with a mouthful of stew. “Am fyne,” she said, making the food spill down her chin. “Aw, shiss.”

  “It’s almost seven,” commented Erdiz, looking at her fob watch. The group members stopped what they were doing and looked up at the carnival as if expecting it to come alive. The problem was that it did.

  At what Rigel presumed was the hour, there was a mighty clunk from somewhere inside the compound. Strings of lights along the support ropes lit up, starting from the ground and running up the tent towards the peak. A neon sign above the gate fizzed into life, casting a red glow over Rona and Rigel. Beside them, the ticket booth lit up and a mechanical whirring filled the air. Rigel watched, alarmed as a clockwork figure sat upright in the booth and stared at them. The scene fell silent, except for a faint creak as the gates swung inwards.

  The figure in the ticket booth blinked – click – before staring at the Light Ones.

  “Tickets?” it asked through a rusty speaker in its throat.

  “Er, yes?” said Rigel. Before he could ask for the correct amount, something in the booth went dunk, dunk, punch, and the figure behind the desk slid five tickets towards them. Rigel went over and pulled them from under the Perspex screen. The mechanical figure regarded him as he did so.

  Stepping back from the machine, Rigel looked down at the tickets. “Ludo Ijosi’s Carnival” was stamped across the top, and at the bottom “Admit One”.

  “Oh,” he said, looking at the tickets.

  “What?” asked Rona. “Oh.”

  On one, it said “Special Guest: Rigel”, on another, “Special Guest: Rona”, and on the other three: “Spectators”.

  “How do you know our names?” she demanded. The mechanical figure blinked at them. Click.

  “Enjoy your evening!” it said through the speaker. “And remember, it’s the KEY destination for any traveller in these parts.”

  “So I keep being told,” she said.

  “Be on your guard,” said Laurie, making the Light Ones jump. They had not heard him approach. “This feels a little too organised for my liking.”

  “Pfft,” said Rona. “You’ll be fine. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen to us. You have the honour of watching.”

  She handed the adults the tickets. The group walked through the gates. As they did so, the canvas flap of the main pavilion opened on either side, apparently on its own. Faint, cheery barrel music floated out into the night air. Rigel squinted to try to see inside the tent, but the gloom within prevented it.

  “I’m going to ask, but I won’t ask again,” said Laurie. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “I could no more walk away from here than I could stop breathing,” Rona replied. “Whatever’s in there it’s calling to me. And it wants to be found.”

  Laurie nodded in resignation and gave a small signal to Jhoan. The bandit returned the nod and loosened his pistols in their holsters.

  “Let’s go in then.”

  Rigel and Rona went first, ducking under the canvas flap and emerging into a hallway between two sets of ascending seats. The air was filled with more mechanical clunking and the murmur of conversation. Walking to the end of the hallway, they saw the giant circus ring, empty for now. Sawdust covered the floor and, in the gloom way overhead, they could see tightropes and trapeze bars hanging from the ceiling. There was another mechanical figure standing by the side of the circus ring, regarding them with glowing eyes.

  “Welcome to tonight’s performance,” it said through its speaker. The voice was identical to the one in the ticket booth. “Spectators, may I have your tickets?” Laurie and the others handed theirs over, but the machine did not look at them. “Please take your seats.”

  Sticking to his promise, Laurie nodded and said nothing to Rona about what was to happen. They climbed the stairs but stopped as they reached the top. The stalls were full of robots – couples, families, singletons – all staring at them with their lamp eyes. Three seats were available in the middle of the crowd. Pressing his lips together, Laurie led the Professor and the bandit, apologising to the robots as he squeezed past them.

  “Performers,” said the ticket inspector. “Please step this way.”

  Its arm extended, removing a velvet rope across the circus ring. The children stepped through and into the ring. The sawdust was thick, squashing under their feet.

  At first, nothing happened. Then, with another series of clunking noises (which seemed to be a theme here, Rigel was noticing), the lights over the audience went out and a spotlight appeared in the centre of the ring. The robots’ conversation fell silent. It didn’t occur to Rigel to wonder why robots would be talking to each other; he was too busy looking at the spotlight.

  From somewhere to their left, a drum roll began and there was a brief whine of static as an overhead speaker system came to life.

  “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to tonight’s performance! You’ve seen it before and you may see it again: false pretenders and lonely travellers ripped to shreds as they search for something not meant for them! But tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we think we might have the real deal. That’s right! All the way from a hole in space – it’s Rigel and Ronaaaaah!”

  Metallic applause filled the air as the crowd showed its appreciation.

  “Alright, I really don’t like this,” Rigel said.

  “It’s going to be some kind of test,” she replied.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like I’ve been here before. I almost feel like this was my idea, but I can’t explain why that is. And every time I get anywhere close to getting an answer, it’s like something in my head blocks it out. But I think whatever’s going to happen won’t be easy, and if we mess up we’re going to be in a lot of trouble. But it’s not designed to work against us. We have the loaded dice … if I can just remember where I put them.”

  Rigel was not sure how he felt about this. “Why do you have these memories and I don’t?” he asked.

  “Because this is mine. The thing here is mine and it was my idea. There will be one for you. When we find it, you’ll know it just like I did. You’ll get the itch – inside your head – and you’ll be drawn to it. But I didn’t realise until we got here and I saw the sign. You’ll see something and it will trigger your memory.”

  He nodded, not satisfied, but reassured.

  A flash of fireworks burst from the floor where the spotlight was pointing. As the smoke cleared, a man was revealed standing in the light. He was wearing a classic ringmaster’s outfit – the red top coat and sleek black top hat. He even had white gloves and a cane. At first, Rigel believed he was alive: there was skin and the eyes were glassy. As he listened, however, he quickly realised that he could hear mechanical clicking similar to the noise made by the other robots they had seen. He was just more polished.

  “I am your host for this evening and you may call me the Ringmaster!” he boomed. Hi
s mouth opened as he said it. If there was a speaker on this machine it was better concealed than the others. “Step forwards, my young contenders. Don’t be shy!”

  The children stepped further into the ring. Another clunk from overhead and spotlight illuminated them, tracking their progress. They stopped in front of the Ringmaster, who was smiling down at them.

  “And what brings you here tonight?” he asked, his voice projecting around the pavilion.

  “I believe you have something that belongs to me,” said Rona.

  “Oh I do, do I? And what is that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Mechanical laughter filled the air. The crowd seemed to think this was funny. The Ringmaster smirked and lifted a hand. The laughter stopped dead.

  “If you don’t know, then how can I give it to you?”

  “It’s a key.” Rigel could tell she was asking it as a question but was wrapping the words carefully so it sounded like a statement.

  “Ah,” said the Ringmaster, tapping his nose. “Now you’re getting it. I have a key of yours, do I?”

  “Yes.”

  “And why should I give it to you?”

  “Because it’s mine.”

  “Finders keepers, though,” the Ringmaster replied, smiling broadly.

  “Perhaps I may challenge you for it, then?” asked Rona. Rigel felt as though there were some script going on here that he did not know. The Ringmaster’s eyes gleamed.

  “A challenge! A challenge, she says!” The crowd cheered. “And what sort of challenge do you propose?”

  “I have no suggestions, Ringmaster,” Rona said, “although I believe you have one in mind: one to test our integrity, strength and courage, one that will prove the key should be mine.”

  There was a strange whirring noise from inside the Ringmaster and his eyes flashed with different colours. Rigel stepped back, alarmed.

  “Protocol 28 activated,” he said. Blinking, his eyes returned to normal. “I see. Then perhaps you better step this way.” He led them to the edge of the ring, standing on a circular disc. He stamped twice and the disc rose up, forming a pillar. Still, the spotlight followed him. “Three challenges then!” he shouted across the pavilion, much to the excitement of the crowd. “A test of courage! A test of strength! And a test of integrity! You will face them together because you are one and the same. Make sure you act as such, however. Should one of you cheat then you shall both fail and the consequences will be more than dire. BEGIN!”

  The Ringmaster clapped his hands three times and the floor began to shake, subtly at first. Rigel noticed as the sawdust began vibrating as if on a drumskin. As he watched, he saw the floor rise to form a platform a foot above the ground. The mechanism settled into place with a thunk. There was a pause and then a giant creaking sound before walls began emerging from the floor. Rising to seven feet high, they stopped.

  “Herein lies your first challenge: the challenge of courage,” the Ringmaster announced. “Here lies the mirror maze. But be warned! It is like no other you may have seen before. These mirrors show shades of the future: the future of pain and sorrow. Cast your eyes upon these scenes and see glimpses of what is to come. Beware! Not all of the mirrors are solid. Dark scenes want to be viewed. They feed off the energy the reaction creates and you may find yourself stepping into this version of the future. Keep close to the mirror or you may end up lost. Cast your eyes over these dreadful scenes and make it to the end and you will pass the first test. Good luck.”

  Rigel looked at Rona, but she was staring ahead at the entrance.

  “I’ll go first,” she said. “Then you follow.”

  “Why can’t we go in at the same time?” Rigel asked.

  “Because whilst courage can always be found from the company of friends,” boomed the Ringmaster, “true courage is established by those who can walk the path alone.”

  Rigel turned to Rona but she was already walking through the entrance. He folded his arms and tried to look into the audience, hoping that a glimpse of Laurie would settle his nerves, but the ever-present spotlight made it impossible to see anything above eye level.

  The minutes dragged, making Rigel wish he could just get it over with.

  “You may enter, Rigel,” the Ringmaster announced.

  Sighing, he stepped up to the platform and towards the entrance, thought about taking a last look towards the audience, but instead stepped inside the maze.

  Any ambient sound was cut off as soon as he entered the puzzle. The floor was smooth and black with the occasional piece of sawdust still lingering. The walls were a confusing maze of glass and mirrors. If Rona was nearby, she was out of sight. Although it was called a maze, so far as Rigel could see there was only one path available to him, and despite looking in the mirrors, he saw nothing more than his reflection looking back at him with an expression of sadness.

  Right, right, left, straight, right. The disorientating effect of seeing himself reflected from all angles made following the path difficult, even though it was impossible for Rigel to stray off-course.

  Suddenly there was a mirror unlike the others. The surface was black and oily. As Rigel approached it, he saw with unease that a scene was clearing: a dark room in some unknown location. In red paint that still looked wet, someone had written across the back wall.

  “There’s someone in my head, but it’s not me,” Rigel read.

  A figure fell from the ceiling of the room and ran up to the glass screaming. It smacked into it and bounced back. Rigel yelled and fell to the floor, scrabbling away from the mirror. The figure inside regained its footing and pressed itself against the glass. Its eyes were red and darting. Thick, clotted blood was drooling from its mouth. There was something unsettlingly familiar about the clothes it was wearing. Reminding himself that it was all an illusion, Rigel stood up again and walked up to the glass. The figure made a guttural sound in its throat and smacked into the glass. Rigel managed to do no more than flinch this time. He knew that jacket, those belts ....

  “Jhoan?” he asked. The figure stopped as if it had heard its name. Its head flicked to Rigel with a bird-like dip. It crawled up to the glass, pressed itself against it and grinned. Thick, clotted blood oozed down the glass. “Jhoan, is that you?” Rigel asked again. The creature roared and smacked against the glass, harder and harder. Rigel heard a cracking sound and to his horror realised the creature inside was breaking the mirror. “Jhoan stop! It’s me, Rigel! Stop it!” The creature looked at Rigel and then vomited blood against the mirror before screaming again.

  Rigel had had enough and turned on his heel, following the path deeper into the maze.

  Left, right, right, straight, right, left, left, straight, right.

  Another black mirror.

  Rigel would have preferred to carry along the path and not look at the scene at all. Somehow, he reckoned that this could compromise their test, so he stood in front of it, watching for it to clear. The surface rippled and a black room came into view. A cage with bars that rose from the floor to the ceiling was situated in the middle of the room. Inside was an emaciated man in filthy rags. Curled into a ball on the floor, he was crying. Rigel pressed himself against the mirror to try to get a better look at the man’s face, and yelled with horror as his hands slipped straight through the surface. It felt like sticking a hand in a bowl of cold jelly. He yanked his hands back quickly and wiped them on his trousers, although there was actually no substance. The prisoner seemed to notice the disturbance, and lifted his head, looking around.

  “Laurie?” Rigel gasped, horrified. Ignoring the Ringmaster’s warning, he stepped through the mirror and into the room. Laurie’s eyes bulged at the sight of Rigel’s sudden appearance.

  “Rigel? Is that you? Please don’t tell me it’s another one of their illusions sent to torture me.”

  Rigel moved over to the bars and put his hands through, holding Laurie’s shoulder.

  “It’s really me,” he said.
“What happened?”

  “Have you come to save me?” The child-like terror Rigel saw in the Captain's face made his heart lurch. What had happened?

  “N-no, Laurie. This isn’t real. It’s just an illusion.”

  “What do you mean it’s just an illusion?”

  “We’re in the Ringmaster’s maze. This is one of the things I saw in the mirror.”

  “This is what you saw in the mirror?” cried Laurie. “And you never told me?”

  “I’m still in there, I haven’t come out yet,” reasoned Rigel. “Why would I tell you about a picture I saw in the maze?”

  “This is what you saw in the maze?” Laurie repeated. “Oh Gods, that was years ago! Tell me, for the love of everything, warn me that this is going to happen. You never did mention it. They’ve caught me, using me as bait to get you.”

  “Who?”

  “Who else? Frivlok. Please help me. No! No! You can’t. You’ll come out years ahead in your future. You can’t. But remember this and when you leave, tell me so we can stop it.”

  “I will, I promise. I’m sorry Laurie.”

  “None of that, it wasn’t your fault. Listen, Rigel, there’s another, like you. Whatever you do, you mustn’t trust him! He’s evil!”

  “Who is?”

  “THAT’S QUITE ENOUGH OF THAT!” the Ringmaster’s voice boomed from some unseen speaker. “ON YOUR WAY, RIGEL.”

  As if pulled back by a rope tied around his waist, Rigel was yanked back out of the mirror and landed on the floor on the other side. Picking himself up, he pressed against the glass only to find it solid. Laurie was banging on the bars of his prison and screaming.

  “I’ll tell you, Laurie,” Rigel murmured. “I promise.”

  Turning on his heel again, he followed the path through the maze, although thankfully, none of the other mirrors let him inside the scenes he saw: A woman hanging upside down, pinned to a wall; a cityscape over Kozenia, which lay in flames; finally, a tall handsome man with white hair, standing grinning at Rigel. He could not help but wonder whether the scenes of things to come were true or whether they were set up as illusions specifically designed to unhinge him. Either way, it was working.