Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty (12 page)

At that thought, he looked up. Paintings of his ancestors were mounted on the ceiling of the workshop. They would be so proud of him getting the family back into the royal registers instead of the disgrace the Filcher family currently suffered. Then… He rubbed his hands together. Then he would remove those families responsible for his ancestors’ fall.

It would be glorious!

He winched the newly completed helmet up to the top of the robot. He gazed critically at the exposed parts on the robot’s head. Ocular sensors and a speaker filled the metal “skull” along with a variety of wires, gears, crystals, and one very cramped pilot’s chair. Gears to allow the head to turn and move attached the skull to the reinforced neck of the machine.

The machine had several surprises, most powered by very expensive, difficult to acquire crystals. Those surprises will make everyone run for cover. It has the ability to be able to “see” and report back to Felonious wherever he might be. Yes, this machine will be a force to contend with.

Destroying parts of New York is going to be so much fun!

Felonious placed the helmet over the metal skull and secured it. Naturally, it fit perfectly.

He scurried down the steps and over to his workbench where a control station had been setup. He flipped a lever and a hum started to emit from the robot. A screen warmed up on the bench, static running across it. He twisted a dial, and the robot straightened ever so slightly. A red glow appeared behind the smoked glass orbs of the newly installed eyes.

Now for the real test.

Felonious toggled a switch. The glow of the eyes intensified, and an image cleared on the screen revealing a man in a white lab coat leaning over a worktable covered with control equipment.

As he raised his right hand, the figure mimicked his actions. When Felonious faced the robot, it was his visage that stared out of the screen. The robot could see! The image on the screen and the man began a manic dance around the workshop. Everything was coming together.

Now to test the autonomous movement systems.

He powered up the robot’s boilers and worked to get all the systems ready. The hum coming from the robot intensified, and the automaton straightened. Just as Felonious was about to start the test, there was a muffled pop. A gush of black liquid streamed from the nether regions of the robot then it went dark. The entire machine hunched down.

“Drat! Not again. It must have popped another rivet,” he muttered, tugging on a pair of rubber, insulated gloves and thick goggles. “There has got to be a better way to do this.”

Entering the robot via a service hatch set in the posterior, Felonious placed a lighted miner’s helmet on top his head. If luck were with him, the repair would be a simple one.

~ * ~

Jack looked at his chronometer and put it back in to his pocket. He hadn’t said anything to Betsy since she managed to figure out his secret. It was awkward having a secret exposed in such a manner. He’d gone to such great lengths to make sure no one would find out he was the man behind the mask. It was due to the risk of what he did that caused him to protect his identity.

Now she wanted a mask of her own?

Somehow he’d have to try and talk her out of the life he’d chosen. Sure she was tough and could handle herself when it came to selling papers, but surely she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself in a fight. If they were to encounter real criminals he would have to do double duty with fighting off attackers and defending Betsy.

“Bet…”

“…and I was thinking we should head over to the piano place and interview the employees. Perhaps someone was recently let go and had a grudge against the company.”

He hadn’t been listening. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“What were you going to say?”

“I…” What had he been about to say? “I think we’re almost here. Have you thought about your mask?”

He couldn’t bring himself to keep her from getting her own mask. Even if he was going to need to protect her, he didn’t want to dash her hopes now. She had gotten so excited about the possibility. He had to follow through now.

She continued to talk all the way to the junkyard. Jack paid little attention. He tried to think of what he could use for her mask. It would take too long to build one from scratch so he’d have to refit one of his previous models. Since she worked with him on a few machines, he was confident she’d be able to assist with some of the work and speed up the process. The day was wearing on, and they had to get back out there and try to figure out where this mad serial bomber might strike next.

Before he knew it, they were at the yard. Now instead of looking at the piles of twisted metal and wrecked hulks with joy and anticipation, he looked at them with disdain. They were a source of not only his income from the job he did for Felonious, but also the place where he could scavenge anything he needed for his inventions. His days were filled with work, but his nights were filled with creation and adventure. Betsy threatening to expose what he did unless he allowed her inside made the yard somewhat daunting.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Um, yes. Wonderful idea.”

They crossed the yard to his living quarters, and he felt the tingle in his pocket as his energy cells recharged. Several items, including his mask, clicked on as the power source came near. He’d arranged it so they wouldn’t need to be turned on if running on energy cells, but would be on and active in the presence of the power source.

“So how you do think we could accomplish that?”

“What?”

“Jack, have you bothered to listen to a thing I said?”

Brother. He was caught now. “I’m sorry. My mind must’ve wandered.”

“Indeed. I wanted to know what you thought about giving our partnership a name and what color you think my mask should be.”

“Well, I’ve told you before I’m no good with names. That’s why I’ve been waiting for the paper to come up with a good one for me. I don’t know that I can come up with two names and a team name. That’s a lot to ask for. As for the color of your mask, well, why don’t you make it match that dress you’re wearing. It’s a great color.”

“Finally an answer out of you. Thank you. Now what will I be using for a mask? It needs to be quick. We’ve got an investigation to get on with.”

Once again he checked his chronometer. “Right.”

Inside his living area Betsy gasped. “You live like this? This place definitely needs a woman’s touch.”

He cringed. Everything was exactly how he wanted it. That last thing it needed was a woman’s touch to rearrange the shelves. Jack hung his satchel by the door.

“The prototype masks and older model masks are right here on this rack.” He motioned to a rack on the far side of the workbench. “Tools are in the drawers of the workbench here. Any bigger tools are in the other room.”

“Just the two rooms?”

“There are more, but that’s all you should need.”

“All I should need? What about you?”

“Well, while you’re working on your mask, I wanted to get under water and get a look at the sunken ships. I figured I’d dig up any clues I can.”

“The first time you invite me to your place you’re going to leave me here while you go gallivanting off again? I thought we were a team now.”

Her pout nearly crushed his heart. “I know, I know. But my submersible is only able to handle one person. I never anticipated having a partner.”

“Well, for any future projects, you’ll have to start planning better. Understand?”

“I understand.” Why did he suddenly feel as though he gained more than a partner?

Betsy rolled up her sleeves and dug into work. Jack, seeing she was well occupied, slipped away before she could come at him with more questions or demands.

Underneath the junkyard lay a large number of tunnels. He was unsure where many of them led, or of their intended usage. But he knew of one tunnel that suited his needs—a sewage pipe that led straight to the bay’s deepest part. His submersible, slightly larger than he led her to believe, sat above a hatch he cut into the pipe.

The black, angular beauty was still a roughed-out project. He only tested it once to ensure it would go in the direction he intended and that it was watertight. It mostly worked. He’d have at least fifteen or twenty minutes of air before he’d have to return to the surface.

The ship, all twenty-five feet of her, hung suspended from the ceiling by a number of cables and pulleys. These would lower the vessel into the pipe. Jack climbed the ladder that led up into a small hole in the belly of the submersible. He had to crawl to the front, flicking multiple switches and pressing several buttons along the way to engage all the systems. He donned a pair of earmuffs to drown out the sound of the engines. Despite being electrical in nature, he hadn’t been able to dampen their turbine whine.

One final switch to flick and the trap door on the bottom snapped closed and a panel slid back to reveal the front view port. Two lobster-like arms protruded from the front. Jack placed his arms on the controllers and retracted them as the cable and pulley system lowered the vessel. With a loud clang the submersible came to an abrupt halt.

He sighed. With his foot he tapped the switch to the up position, and the ship rose once again. With his other foot he flicked the open switch for the hatch then flicked the other switch to the down position.

Successfully in the pipe, the cables released the vessel which settled into a slow slide. He used the lobster-like arms to scoot himself along, gaining speed as the slope increased into the bay. In no time at all he was in the water, and he engaged the propeller with his right foot. This one controlled the speed. The arms served double duty, also allowing him to direct his underwater flight while his left foot controlled his depth.

The visibility of the water, now that it was almost noon, was as good as it was going to get: somewhere between bad and terrible. That didn’t stop him though. He needed some answers. Perhaps he could ascertain the owner of the vessel used to sink the ship carrying the load of ivory.

The submersible vibrated far more than it should, but Jack continued on his path to where he thought the two ships should be. He slowed thinking a lower speed might help decrease the vibrations, but it didn’t. The submersible couldn’t stay underwater long. If only he’d done more field testing of this vessel. So little time and so many projects.

Before he knew what he was looking at, he was upon the two underwater wrecks. The larger of the two, the
Manuel Llaguno
, sat in two parts. Stacks of ivory tusks littered the bay floor. The smaller ship, Jack’s true target, was more bits and a couple of large pieces.

He did his best to circumnavigate the debris, but the vibrations became worse as he tried to turn. Despite wearing earmuffs, the sound had become almost deafeningly painful. Something gave off a terrible smell of burning trash. The cabin had been filling with black smoke while he looked at the debris-strewn field. He only had a matter of seconds to react to the now impending disaster. He had to eject. Why hadn’t he done more testing? Jack pounded his fist on the eject button.

Something caught his eye as the escape pod closed around him. Amid the charred wood, ivory, and broken bits he saw color—red, white, and blue and not in the pattern they should be—neither the stars and stripes of the United States nor the three broad stripes of the French.

~ * ~

The pod had been designed to constrict around Jack’s body, eject him from the submersible, and pop up to the surface. Once there it would open like a blooming flower and function much like a canoe and allow him to paddle to shore, or in this case to the dock.

Unfortunately it had ideas of its own. It nearly smashed him flat, flooded the submersible—fortunately putting out the smoking fire at the rear—and burst into pieces to drift to the bottom of the bay, leaving him floating and desperate for breath.

He reached into his coat pockets and clamped the two parts of his mask over his head. Still holding his breath, he pulled a tube out from inside one sleeve and attached it to a small nozzle on the mask’s side. With a little difficulty, he flipped the mask’s fan on.

Now that he was underwater, the flow of water inside the mask caused thin rubber flaps to seal off the seam and neck sections of the mask as glass slits slid over his eyes. He then squeezed the rubber bladder under his arm and exhaled. The water inside the mask was forced out, and Jack was able to take a quick breath. He looked up and swam as quickly as he was able to the surface.

The mask performed as designed and, when he broke the surface, it popped off allowing him to gasp for breath. He lay on his back for several long breaths to calm himself before turning over and swimming for the dock. In his disoriented state he swam to the wrong pier.

“No matter,” he tried to reassure himself as he climbed the ladder. “We found out what we needed.” He pulled off and stowed the mask once onto the pier.

His clothes weighed a ton as he stomped and sloshed his way back to the yard. One day soon he’d have to install metal fiber elements in his clothing to allow an energy cell to dry him quicker. With this revelation he reached for his pocket to pull out a piece of paper. If he didn’t write this down, he’d be liable to forget all about it.

“Curses, no paper. And I’m sure I’m forgetting all about something else. This entire day has thrown me completely off my normal schedule.”

Despite the warmth of the noonday sun, he arrived back at Felonious’ Finery soggy and in sore spirits. He felt it might be time for a nice, short nap.

“How do I look?”

Jack nearly jumped out of his skin and let out a yelp like a barking seal. Betsy stood before him garbed in her beautiful maroon, silk dress, but some of the lace hem had been torn away. That lace adorned a tall metal collar of blackened steel that rose from her shoulders and covered her face, leaving the top of her head exposed and her red hair flowing freely.

“Mr. Kane.” She poked him with her parasol.

He snapped his mouth closed. “How is that going to protect your head?”