“What are they doing?” Purple asked what everyone was thinking. “What are they shouting?”
All of them angled their heads, trying to figure it out.
“It’s a bug. Get it off me now.” He looked at the mind control device. He’d brought it along, still clasped in the tweezers, forgetting about it until now. It looked like a bug. It had to mean something that they’d all freaked out at once, but what? Was the evil overlord having some strategic shift in his plans? Okay, the change from panic to dance moves was on the freaky side. How could all of them be off key and off key in the same way? He hadn’t heard singing that bad since—his thoughts splintered.
Em.
He hadn’t heard anything so off since Em back in the bowling alley.
He looked at the bug. Then he looked at the zombies again. The dance moves seemed like hers, too. Kind of cute and kind of awful. The pause made hope drop like a rock. His thoughts spun and dived on theories and speculations and ideas and possibilities, all of them with the device and Em at their heart.
“What are they doing?” The colonial guy looked and sounded rattled.
Robert couldn’t blame him. He’d endured a lot before he and Emily arrived and it was unnerving to see the zombies go still. “Wait.” Surely, if it were Em doing this, she’d do something to let him
know
—
Oh my darling, oh my darling,
Oh my darling, Clementine!
Thou art lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine
Bright he was but not my uncle,
And now I’m in a funcle
For my darling Clementine!
“They’re really awful.” Biker shuddered as they all failed to hit the high note.
“Yes,” Robert agreed, smiling for the first time since the automaton had taken Em. Wonderfully, amazingly awful. He sank down, his back against the parapet and looked at the bug, considering all that happened. Uncle? Was she trying to tell him she was free and heading for her uncle’s warehouse? He needed to let her know he’d got the message.
As if someone had flipped a switch, the singing stopped and the zombies started moving with less cohesion, but more purpose, clusters of them fanning out into nearby buildings.
“They are searching. For us.” Purple guy was pale lavender after all their adventures.
He is such a girl.
That sounded like something Em would think. He smiled. “Yes.”
What if it is a trick?
It’s possible, but even if Em were still captured, they wouldn’t be able to access her knowledge this fast.
It seemed longer, but it had only been half an hour, maybe a bit longer, since the encounter with the automaton. With a new sense of fatality, Robert put his pinkie close to the bug. It grabbed the tip with metal eagerness, the pain about the level of a mosquito bite.
It’s a bug. Get it off me.
It made a kind of weird sense that the girl who had apparently escaped from an automaton was afraid of a bug.
“Are you crazy?” Colonial looked horrified.
The crew pulled back from him, as if they expected him to go zombie. They might not be wrong. In case they were, he started to sing. He sang long and loud, the song she’d sung when they first met, he sang that he didn’t feel like dancing, even though he totally did. Nod helped him with the lyrics and the tune.
“At least you can carry a tune.” Colonial sounded resigned.
* * * *
Just seconds after his virtual arrival, the tremor hit the research facility like the wrath of the god Faustus no longer believed in. The agony of the wrenching earth toppled the already wounded automaton. Doctor, who had been working to repair the broken hand, didn’t stand a chance. A half cry, cut off at the source before it could fully emerge, and he was gone, crushed under the massive body.
The automaton’s metal head breached the virtual reality field and passed through his body. Faustus couldn’t feel it, but it was still disconcerting to see red eyes staring at him from the middle of his own body.
More crashes, shrieks and cries of fear and pain as more tremors shook the facility. On his real time tracking board, lights went dark, like fireflies blinking out of existence. It wasn’t just Constilinium vanishing this time, but specimens. Hard to be sure until he did a count, but it looked like it might be as much as a ten percent attrition rate. A good thing he’d moved most of his key pins out of the facility already.
Tobias jumped into the doorway as falling debris added to the chaos. Faustus stared at him, saw him go out of phase, flickering like the bulbs on the map, for several long seconds, before he reappeared. Odd to feel relieved, when he knew he wouldn’t need him for much longer.
The tremors stopped as suddenly as they’d started. His tracking and monitoring equipment flickered and then updated. As expected, his lab was half its original size. Of most concern, were the losses in unsecured sections of the laboratory. Could Glarmere and Carig have escaped as time rolled back? And what would they remember about the trip? Even if their memories reset, it would only be as far back as their retrieval, which would mean they would still remember he was behind the attacks. He tensed. What about the other members of the Council? If they were gone…he keyed in a search…and realized their section of the cages were gone. What would they remember about their abductions? Tobias had odd, bleed-through memories from the time resets he’d experienced. Not clear ones, but he’d sensed things and faced suspicion from those he’d encountered in previous realities.
According to the data, the epicenter of the tremor was his research facility. Did that mean a focused attack on him or was it directed at something—or someone—in the facility? Whatever the target—or lack of one—it was neither neat nor confined to the near vicinity. It appeared to be causing problems throughout his laboratory.
He shifted his virtual presence so it no longer intersected with the automaton, arriving back in time to see Tobias cross to what remained of Doctor. He knelt to check for a pulse. He rose, his expression typically blank, but he would not be mourning that loss, considering what Doctor had done to him. Unlike many of his specimens, Tobias remembered almost everything about his various surgeries. It had been necessary and amusing. None of the others offered as much entertainment as Tobias struggling like a bug pinned in a Petri dish. Now he wondered if it had been the best choice. He sighed—the man who could have fixed the problem was dead. What had been done could not be undone, at least not at the moment.
And then, when he thought the worst was over, strange arrived. The remaining controlled specimens began to hop or jump, their movements in unison, and they all cried out something. The acoustics of the former warehouse made the sound echo and blurred the sounds.
“What are they saying?” His connection with his laboratory had been degraded by the tremor, he realized, though he wasn’t sure why that had happened either.
“It’s a bug.” Tobias tipped his head. “Get it off of me.”
Then they started to sing and dance, doing neither particularly well, though still in unison. Even degraded, the singing was painfully out of tune. And the one man who could tell him what the hell was happening was dead. The jerky bits of singing shifted into two longer bits. One about miner. He remembered that song, not that he wanted to remember. But the dancing song? No. As abruptly as it started, it stopped.
Could someone be using his specimens to send a message? Was it even possible? He turned to ask Doctor and remembered. If he’d been physically present, he’d have kicked the corpse. If anyone thought they could use his laboratory, his specimens—well, they’d soon learn otherwise.
“I want every unsecured pin contained now, Tobias and by contained I mean eliminated.” The words were clipped, angry, but he lacked the ability to control that at the moment. “Take what resources you require.” He’d removed the automatons he needed for his assault on the base. What remained was expendable. And Tobias? He’d have to think about his future. “Burn down every building if you have to.” The whip or carrot? The female had survived for now. Perhaps a bit of both. “Do it and I’ll make you a present of the female. No strings attached.” He smiled, bringing out the whip. “Fail and you will both experience the most unpleasant experience I can fashion. Naturally she will experience it first, while you observe.”
He keyed in final transport orders for any specimens of use, including the female. If Tobias survived long enough, she might still prove useful in controlling him and if he didn’t, well, since she was expendable, she might provide a last bit of entertainment before he turned back time. He changed his virtual location, sure he didn’t need a response from Tobias. He’d do what he was told.
He turned his attention to the stream, looking for changes incurred by the time attack. It was worse than expected. The emotion clawing its way up his chest, the second since he’d looked at Halane’s photograph, took him by surprise. He had kept it under control for so long. Perhaps it was time to set it loose.
He took his internal temperature and found it was perfect for launching this attack.
It was time to take down the Time Base.
* * * *
Emily starred at the zombies with the same intensity that she wished she could ask Wynken and Blynken if they thought Robert got the message. She’d gone from not being able to ask, to wanting to ask, to afraid it would be bad luck to ask after so many years of not asking. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but not much did at the moment.
I’d like to get the bug off my finger now.
She thought she’d been very restrained in the thought and she hadn’t screamed or hopped, but neither was far away if it wasn’t gone soon.
We were able to penetrate the bug through the soft underside!
You’re inside the bug. That’s totally gross.
She wanted to bust out a question about its guts, but it was way too shallow for her first question ever, well, not ever, but in years.
We sent non-sentient drones in, Em.
Right. Of course—
“I don’t feel like dancing.” She blinked. That sounded like her voice saying that. She looked at the two girls still huddled against their respective walls and found them looking at her like she’d lost it. Again. They both so needed to, you know, get a new look or something.
“We are glad to hear it,” Glarmere said, though with obvious unease.
“I
don’t
feel like dancing.” She didn’t sing it, but it was a near thing. She
felt
like singing, wanted to sing it. She felt…like singing that she didn’t feel like dancing. She
had
sung it this morning right before she saw Robert.
It’s a message! From Robert oh-my—from Robert.
It felt like the nanites did a jig. Felt way weird, but not in a bad way, just in a weird way, which was almost like normal in this place. The zombies added a jig vibe to their song.
That looks way worse than my moves.
She felt the jig stop. Interesting that they seemed able to affect the zombies, too.
So they aren’t taking over my brain, we’re taking over theirs. Or what’s left of theirs. Cool.
She paused.
Still want it off my finger. Just in case you were wondering.
If they can affect you, it would be better to get it off,
Wynken agreed.
She liked him a lot.
Applying the metal edge of your pliers made it lift its legs the last time. I believe that will work again.
Okay, so she loved Blynken, too. Seriously. Real, lasting love for them both and Nod. She felt them wriggle with what felt like pleasure, like two puppies in her head. Different, but okay. She found the pliers where she’d dropped them during her initial bug panic and applied them as suggested. Dang, if the creepy little brass bug didn’t lift its creepy little brass legs. She pulled it loose, not embarrassed to expel a huge sigh of relief. She eyed it with extreme prejudice, fighting an urge to toss it out the window. A pity it was her only way to contact Robert.
I suppose I should keep it.
Totally, girl. Might need to take them over again or something.
They felt sorry about it, which helped. If she dropped it in her pocket, it might latch on to her again. She thought for a moment.
“Right.” Pulled out a mint dispenser, dispensed them all, popped the bug inside, and snapped the lid shut. It flexed its tiny legs a bit, before subsiding with a near life-like resignation. She probably imagined the hint of sulk about it. Or not.
“Be glad you aren’t squashed on the floor right now,” she told it. She dropped the bugged dispenser in her pocket, took a couple of mints and held the rest out to the two girls. “Breath mints.”
She had to hide a giggle in a cough when they both checked their breath and then took some. It seemed even ET and his alien sidekick worried about halitosis.
How do you plan to get to the warehouse?
Blynken’s question was politely phrased, but Emily felt the nudge in it.
She responded by peering out the window, because they all knew she didn’t have a plan. The zombies appeared to have resumed normal operation, which seemed to be all about searching.
That’s a lot of searching going on out there.
A whole lot of searching. A whole lot of zombies. She frowned. She’d almost think they were looking for more than just one automaton escapee, but the airship couldn’t land around here. Even as the thought formed in her head, her chin lifted. It might could land on a roof—
She’d hit the second landing of the second floor before she remembered the two girls, abandoned to an uncertain fate. No sound of footsteps following this time, so it seemed they didn’t mind. Not that they’d be missed. She took the last flight before the roof two at a time and wasn’t even winded.
Sweet.
The door stuck a bit and she used a shoulder. That hurt, but Wynken or maybe Blynken fixed that. The door burst open. She half fell, half leaped out into the open.
Up top, it felt closer to the angry sky, which had gotten angrier since she last saw it, which it could have if the shrinking was top down, too, and not just side to side. Lightning cut through the dingy grey with a regularity that could almost be clocked, which was a bit un-lightning-like. The air felt damp and left a nasty residue on her tongue. Almost afraid to find out she was wrong, she started a scan of the surrounding rooftops. She’d almost completed her circuit, with hope spiraling down, when she saw the downed airship on the last building left to look at, its envelope drooping over the gondola in a particularly forlorn manner. At first she thought she was too late, that it had been abandoned, but then she saw the huddle of people near the furthest edge from where she stood.