A World of InTemperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 2) (10 page)

P.O.V. Ichabod

“That there steamer-sleigh is making off with Miss GoldenBear, Miss Mademoiselle DeeDee, and my Persephone! Oops, I mean, Miss Plumtartt!”

“Forget about them, Temperance, you’ve got a high priority mission to accomplish here and now.”

“Gee, Mr. Murray, you are expecting me to put the fate of the world before the girl I love.”

“No, I mean you have to save
me!
I don’t want to be ripped limb from limb by nightmarish mechanical men! I’m too young to die! Do something, you twit!”

“Our pursuers are limited by the length of their electricity supply lines.”

“Yessir, Mr. Cogito, sir, but they overlap enough that we are always in reach of two or three.”

“Keep moving over this machinery y’all, it’s harder for them to track us. As soon as we find a clear way down, we’ll find us a spot out of reach from their ‘lectric leashes.”

~Slam!~

“Ach, the steel cargo doors are kicked open! Here come the outdoor steamer-matons! Dozens of the metal monsters are pouring in!”

~
Slam!
Clank!~

“Oh, good, they’ve closed and locked the doors so that no more monsters can get in.”

~
Slam!
Clank!
Slam!
Clank!
Slam!
Clank!
Slam!
Clank!~

“I hate to be presumptuous, Mr. Murray, but the more likely scenario is that they have now sealed the building against our escape.”

“Climb down here, fellers, we’ll be able to move faster and be more mobile on the ground.”

“Okay, we’re down, now get me out of here.”

“Nein, James, we must complete our mission!”

“I don’t think my pistols are gonna do much against these boys. I suggest we all grab up any pipes or chain we come across as we desperately run for our lives.”

~whack!~

“Ja, it feels good to hit them, but the damage is minimal.”

“Blimey, Wolfie, that brute took your best shot and now, somehow appears to be laughing at you, mate.”

“Mr. Bolt, I’m gonna put you down. Now you stay out of the way, but stay close, you hear?”

“Roof!”

“Oh, Mr. Metzger got a piece of pipe between the legs of a steamer and dropped him. I’ll help you finish him off, sir. This plate on his back is the access to his overhead cam connecting key. I’ll pop it out and he’ll be done. Oh, golly, I don’t want to kill nobody! Mr. Cogito, what do I do?”

“These devices are not built with an active Cortextual Quartz, Mr. Temperance. That thing is no more alive than your pocket watch. With my blessings, sir, wreck the wretched thing.”

“Let’s see, a quarter turn counter clock-wise, okay, now a sharp pull. Hey, it worked! I have now successfully destroyed my first clockwork device, unless you count the one we blew up earlier.”

“Eek! Here come more clockers! Fall back, men, we’ll try the trip ‘em and kill ‘em method again.”

“Yessir, Mr. Murray. Hey, I got me some chain! I’ll secure one side here, and now run this end over to, woah! Here he comes! Gotcha!”

“I’ll do the honours this time, Icksy.”

“Nein, we must flee! We are already being over-run!”

“Aaugh!”

“Mr. Cogito!”

“Help!”

Mr. Cogito has been knocked down! The electric-killer is trying to stomp on Mr. Cogito, and it’s all he can do to scramble out of the way!

Scrambling atop a work table, and with a short run, I am able to jump onto the brute’s back. As I am clinging to the back of his head, he can’t quite reach me. I pull my screwdriver and give Stompy the icepick treatment in his earhole.

“I do beg your pardon, Mr. Temperance, but I have fallen, and cannot get up.”

“Oh my Goodness, are you injured, Mr. Cogito?”

“Oh no, Mr. Temperance, you see, my inability to regain my feet from a prone position is merely an unfortunate design flaw, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I reckon it’s hard to foresee every possibility on the design table.”

“Precisely, sir. Oh dear, two of our foes descend upon us. Leave me, Ichabod, save yourself.”

“Nossir, I ain’t one to abandon a pal. Come on, now, unh! You are too heavy for me, I can’t lift...
woah!”

“Move, Ichabod!”

“Yikes! Tweedle Death and Tweedle Doom have got us cornered! This is it, Mr. Cogito!”

“Nein! You will not harm mein friends!”

Mr. Metzger falls upon the twin terrors. Wolfgang has found an equalizer of sorts in a hammer. It’s a really big hammer! That thing must weigh thirty pounds! Metzger doubles one giant over with a swinging strike to the tin tummy. With a quick turn he knocks an arm off the other, then moves back to the first, beheading the thing, in execution. Lefty then gets Mjolnar’s uppercut.

“Roight, I’ll help you, Icksy. Ups you go, Cogito, me loyal digger. Keep moving, gents; a closing mechanical army makes our present position untenable.”

“We have now made an almost complete circuit of the building, gentlemen. All exits are sealed, and mechanized mayhem closes on all sides, trapping us in the center of the factory floor.”

“This must be the sluice, where the river runs under our feet to spin the electricity generating dynamos, y’all.”

“Ja, also, the overflow is diverted here.”

“The overflow sluice is shut, sending all the river’s energy to electricity production.”

“Do we shut off the valve, to deprive them of their animating motivation?”

“Yessir! No, wait! I mean, nossir! We need to lock this channel valve in place so that it cannot be opened! My screwdriver! Mr. Metzger, hammer this screwdriver into the gears!”

~bink!~

“Step back, Ichabod.”

~BONK!~

“Nicely done, Wolfie! You sheared that valve off so that this sluice will never be opened again.”

An onslaught of iron men closes.

Heavy boots, full of lead, fill we the victims, full of dread.

“Okay, Icky, we have now ensured that the electric models will not go wanting. Was that your plan?”

“Nossir, James, you see this little port?”

Yes, but could you make this brief?  We are almost over-run.”

“Yessir, see, it’s a maintenance panel for the turbine. Mr. Metzger, may I have your hammer, please?”

“
Sigh
, sure, but I was really becoming attached to it.”

“Thanks.”

    *
drop
*

~CHANK!~

“Whoo-whee, y’all, that there turbine prop bit into that hammer-head chunk of steel like a child with a big piece of saltwater taffy!”

“Mr. Temperance, what have you done? The river is now trapped! Your dynobite has left the water nowhere to go... woah! A geyser of water is forced back out of the sluice!”

“Ja, the river is being forced inside the building!”

~Ker-
BZZK!
Ker
-BZZK!
Ker
-BZZK!
Ker
-BZZK!~

“The electric monsters are shorting out! Water and electricity do not mix!”

“This sealed building is quickly flooding! All the electricity automatons have been disabled!”

“Up here on top of the sluice we are still above the rising waters. The coal furnaces on the steamers are being extinguished!”

“Some of the clockers are trying to escape before their fire is put out! The water is already so high, they can’t open the doors against the tremendous weight!”

“If they can’t get out, then neither can I, I mean, we.”

“Hurry fellers, there’s bound to be a hatch in the sluice beyond the generators.”

“Quite so, I have it, sir.”

“Hurry, the water is catching us! Everybody in, quick!”

“Here you go, Mr. Cogito, you take Mr. Bolt. I’m gonna close this hatch behind us.”

*~~~*

“Gee, that sure was a long, slimy tunnel to freedom, but I reckon we all made it.”

“Ja, and look there, Ichabod, water is spraying from under the eaves of the factory.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of water to fill that big barn of a factory. I can’t believe it is under so much pressure! Little sprays of water are popping out from any crevice.”

“Blimey, is it just me, mates, or is that cliff beginning to sag under its incredible burden? Nevermind, the whole compound is going for a ride down the mountainside.”

“Gentlemen, if I may have your indulgence:”

“Earth and air tremble,

the mountain doth rumble.

Our criminal compound,

takes a tumble.”

P.O.V. Abigail

“A-a-a-h, the drill appears to be a smashing success, eh, Admir.. I mean, Field Marshall?”

“Burbity-burb, drill you say, ThrascheWright? Your dumbfounded expression at seeing your compound in an uproar does not support that statement. Harumph.”

Lord Bar’Bazaul angrily casts about the factory compound. Alarm bells are ringing throughout. Massive carbide lanterns are ignited. Cannons of solid, blue/white, blinding beams of light search through the factory. Teams of giant LeadeFoote model coal-powered steam-soldiers pound in different directions.

“Lord Bar’Bazaul, you said something about inspecting, ‘Location X’?’

“Hunh? Oh, yes. Come along then, Field Marshall, get in the snow-tractor. Location X is less than an hour North of here.”

   “Oh! My naughty priest! What an exquisite steam-carriage! It is magnifique! Would you take us for zee ride? Pleeez?”

This Gauzot woman really knows how to lay on the charm! I have to give her credit on being able to plead in a most alluring fashion.

“No!”

“Oh, let’s not be hasty, Lord Barbity-barb, these girls have been the best part of the tour so far, harumph.”

“Bah, enough! Very well, everyone aboard the steam-ski.”

“Come along with me, Abby, my dove.”

My little Field Marshall keeps me firmly in tow.

“You there, Persephone, isn’t it? You look distracted, girl.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course, forgive me Millicent, I was just concerned that your drill was being conducted properly. My apologies, here I come.”

“Proceed, driver.”

“Wib, wib,
wight
, sir! Wib, wib.”

Great Scott, that driver’s face, when he turned, had the most unusual complexion I have ever seen! His features are not human. I’m not sure if Gauzot or Plumtartt caught it, as they are paying more attention to their dates.

I need to remain oriented to navigate our position. I always like to know where I am. My lady friends are not the sort to worry about such trivial matters as being able to find their way out of this frozen wilderness.

The fantastic steam-powered snow-car proves capable of handling the rough terrain.

We have traveled many miles, but now we are approaching an armed camp. It defends a pass through a stone hillside. A dozen troops in opulent uniforms hop to attention.

Ah, as with our driver, once more, I am struck by these soldiers’ indefinable ancestry.

The narrow pass opens into a valley, beyond. The center is dominated by a tall, stone, keep.

From within, it appears we travel across a vast crater; jagged edges surround the distant perimeter. Over a hundred large bonfires dot the expansive basin. Shadows prance before flickering flames in fevered frenzies. Large jars are spaced about the fires, reflected in the wind-blown light. The jars are circled in dancing revelry.

Lord Bar’Bazaul speaks:

“Field Marshall; ladies; we shall refresh ourselves within Castle Arct-X, before continuing our inspection.”

P.O.V. Ichabod

“For a bunch of amateurs, you lot didn’t muck things up too badly.”

“Thanks, Mr. Murray, sir, but actually, I think we all did pretty well. That was a good call, grabbing up that hammer, Wolfgang.”

“Ja, Ichabod, it felt right. Now then, there is no time for the dilly-dally, we must rescue our captive Frauleins, ja!”

“I suggest we retrieve our sleighs, to maintain a speedy pursuit.”

“Gosh, I hate to admit it, but I have gotten lazy, and left the navigational duties to Miss GoldenBear.”

“No worries, Icksy. Prepared to be amazed, me slow-witted American mates, the technology you are about to witness is absolutely uncanny! With this small, electric device, I can immediately know my exact position, anywhere on the globe!”

“Gee, what do you call it, Mr. Murray?”

“G.P.S. Gyrosynchronicitor Placement Sphere. Er, oops. Unfortunately, it appears to have been damaged in the sluicy goosey slide.”

“Fear not, gentlemen, my computations can return us to the place of concealment for our sleighs.”

“Now don’t you worry none, Mr. Bolt. We’re gonna save our girls!”

“Roof!”

“The sleighs are a melancholy place without our lady companions, mein friends.”

“Yessir, just thinking of Miss Plumtartt stiffens my resolve.”

“Shake a leg, mates, the wind, snow, and gloomy darkness have wiped out the steamer trail. We no longer have any guidance to our foes’ lair.”

“Regrettably, my own assistance now falls to nil.”

“We must continue in the last known direction, vhichever that was.”

“Oh, golly, I wish we had something to guide us.”

“Sleighs, ho. My receptors detect movement on the ridgeline.”

“I’ve got a small set of binoculars, y’all. I want to get a look at him from a distance.”

“Good idea, Ick-Ick. I have a set of small binoculars, also.”

Ach, be careful, James. Vhat are you doing? That is a small pistol, not an eyepiece!”

“Ha, that’s where you are wrong, Woof-Woof. This double-barreled Derringer actually converts into a powerful little magnifier!”

“Okey-doke, there he is. Ee-ew. He ain't the best looking of fellers, is he?”

“He won’t be winning any beauty contests at the Adelaide Follies, mate. I am not altogether convinced that this bitzer boggo is actually human.”

“That there is the lowest, flattest, forehead I ever did see.”

“His peepers are set extra wide apart.”

“Let me see, Ichabod. Ja, I see vhat you mean. Herr Handsome’s mouth extends from ear to ear.”

“I might describe his skin tone as ‘reptilian’, but for all the hair; or is it fur?”

“Ja, this must be a member of the mercenary army! Maybe he vill lead us to the next fortress, where our Frauleins languish in captivity!”

“I have our coordinates fixed, gentlemen. Let us leave our horses and sleighs, to pursue this fellow that braves the elements before us on foot.”

“He ain’t difficult to track, is he? A series of stumbles in one direction ends in a spinning pirouette, then he staggers back in another.”

“Ja, but the zig-zag course is relatively constant in direction.”

“Exercise stealth, gentlemen. As we pick our way across this rocky hillside, I have visual reception of an armed camp, to which our clumsy leader has brought us.”

“Yessir, looks like a bunch of frog-faced toadiers, uh, I mean soldiers, are guarding a narrow pass through that stony hill.”

“Ach, I must say, I admire the fancy, epauleted uniforms, and high, brocaded hats.”

“They’re a stylish group of monsters, I’ll give ‘em that. They obviously take great pride in their clumsy marching to and fro. Uh, oh, the frogger sentries have spotted their serpentine swaggering digger-mate.”

“Gracious, they are not particularly kind to the poor fellow, are they? They have roughly snatched the humanoid chap up and brusquely led him into the pass beyond.”

“We gotta get past them there toad-ape soldiers and save our lady friends!”

“Careful mates, there are bands of Froggy-boys patrolling the area.”

“Shhh, listen, mein friends. I hear the deep, resonant, beat of large drums.”

Dump. Dump. Dump.

Buh-dubbity, duh-Ump. . Dump.

.

Dump. Dump. Dump.

Buh-dubbity, duh-Ump. . Dump.

“How extraordinary. Though I am, of course, of synthetic manufacture, nevertheless, the pound of that chilling tattoo sends a shiver of fear through my circuitry.”

“Yessir, me too. Looky how the guardsmen sway with the rhythm as they march.”

“Shh, be quiet, Icksy, listen! The monkey-men are toadaly singing a song.”

“Oh, we loathe,

the Old One.

.

Oh, we loathe,

the Old One.”

Oh, golly, I just gotta save Miss Plumtartt!

I take stock of my comrades.

Our man Murray puts up a brave front, but does he have claws?

Mr. Metzger wants to get his Lady charge safely home.

Cogito means to prove he is a man.

I am worried. I feel as if the stuffing has been kicked out of me.

…

Is James Murray anything more than a cowardly lion?

Cogito, a tin man in search of heart?

Am I but a scarecrow?

Then there’s my little dog, too.

“I don’t think we’re in Krakow anymore, mein friends.”

“Y’all got any suggestions?”

“Roight, I’ve got it! You boys create a divers...”

Two derby hats bop James into silence.

“Come on, y’all, we just gotta get...”

“Rarr!”
Krikey!”
“Rarr!”
“Vas ist los?”

“Rarr!”
“Heck fire!”
“Rarr!”
“Exclamation!”

“We’ve been ambushed, y’all!”

“Eek! I’m being attacked by a monkey-frog monster soldier!”

“Me, too, Mr. Murray!”

“Ach, good! I vanted to beat up on one that would kidnap Mademoiselle Gauzot!
~kooge!~
Take that, mein clammy friend!”

“It behooves me to strike you, my unusual specimen.
~klonk!~
I hope it does not bring you too much grief, sir.”

~bam!~

“That’s for Miss Plumtartt!”

~pow!~

“Greetings from down under, mate!”

“Golly, it looks like we got the best of them four amphibbies what jumped on our heads.”

“If I may make a suggestion, gentlemen. I note that the overly large and ridiculously embellished uniforms now at our disposal might make for a clandestine entrance to yon facilities.”

“Roight, not only that, but we can use ‘em to sneak in!”

“Gee, after we save the girls, will you take a picture of me in this uniform with your camera shoe, Mr. Murray? I ain’t never wore nothing with so much gold rope, and tassels. Nor a two foot hat, neither.”

“Shh, a troop is marching in now, mein friends. Remember to sway and chant as we fall into the back of the line.”

Dump. Dump. Dump.

Buh-dubbity, duh-Ump. . Dump.

.

“Oh, we loathe,

the Old One.”

.

“Oh, we loathe,

the Old One.”

.

“Oh, we loathe,

the Old One.”

.

“Oh, we loathe,

the Old One.”

. . .