The Curious Matter, Pt. 3

The Curious Matter of Clockwork Manor
Part III

Poor Ben flinched as shot after shot pealed through the hallway. He was trying to concentrate, truly, but the somewhat lively atmosphere made this a difficult feat.

"Almost there!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Just a few more seconds!"

Durward said nothing in reply. To be fair, the captain was a bit distracted by the horde of gleaming clockwork spiders that clicked and clattered along the corridor. For every automaton that fell before Durward's rifle, several more eagerly resumed the charge. From all three hallways they came, closing off every means of escape.

Time was running short. Any hope of survival depended on this locked door. Ignoring the quaver of his hands, Ben prodded at the gearwork again with his turnscrew.

Transference rotor tied to the interlock mechanism, rattled his clockish brain. A counter-weighted dial interface with even reductions from the central motor. The proper sequence should be–

Something metallic clinked against the wall by Ben's feet, breaking his focus. It was a sphere, plum-sized and brass-colored. Before Ben had even a second to consider it further, the sphere started to vibrate. Then, it began to shriek.

The noise wasn't especially loud, but it was certainly high in pitch. Like the whistle of a locomotive it split through the din of clockwork claws. Ben didn't so much hear it with his ears as he did feel it with his eyeballs.

The sphere spun faster and the screeching climbed higher until finally, the device burst like a popped corn. Ben felt as if he had been slapped. The turnscrew buzzed in his grip. And every clockwork spider within a ten-meter radius shuddered and collapsed.

Through the spots in his vision, he was aware of something human-shaped bounding over the twitching scrap heap. It seemed to be female – perhaps a year or two younger then Ben himself – and she was waving what looked like the smoldering remains of a parasol. Most immediately odd to Ben's muddled mind was the fact that she wasn't made of clockwork.

The newcomer seized Ben by the shoulders. She seemed to be saying something. She pointed down the corridor from whence she came and then gestured at the locked door. When Ben failed to respond, the girl struck him across the cheek.

"Please tell me you can open it!" she pleaded. "Hurry! They're coming!"

The blow knocked some amount of wit back into Ben's skull. At the very least, he was aware of glittering shapes skittering forward along the corridors.

"Right! Yes! Door!"

He forced his brain back into the whirring lock.

Twelve tumblers, with nearly identical variance.

"Quickly!" shouted the stranger over the roar of Durward's rifle.

Transfer delay of a micro-meter per reduction.

The chittering claws were nearly deafening.

"There!" Ben yelped. He jabbed a spinning gear with his turnscrew. The mechanism hiccoughed to a standstill and something deep within the wall clanked loudly.

"Everyone inside!" he said, flinging the door open.

The girl scrambled through the portal and Ben climbed in behind her. With a few more decisive rifle blasts, Captain Durward dove in after them. The three adventurers heaved against the steel. There was a great echoing slam, the click of a lock engaging, the belligerent scraping of metal on metal, and then silence.

I should say, silence except for the sound of heavy breathing.

"I say, Captain," panted Ben. "Another close one, what?"

"Aye, sir."

Ben turned to their new companion. "I don't think I've ever seen better timing – and my family is in clocks, so that really means something."

"Thanks," said the girl, untwisting her singed parasol. "If I learn nothing else today, at least I'll know I have good timing."

A sheepish look flashed across her face. "Was that rude? I'm sorry – I don't mean to sound rude."

Perhaps it was the effects of narrowly escaping a swarm of bloodthirsty mechanical spiders, but Ben still felt a tad out-of-sorts.

"Rude? Er, no – I don't think so."

"Oh good!" said the girl. "Do let me know if I'm being rude. I promise I don't mean it. It's just a bit unsettling – having so many near-death-experiences in one day, I mean. I'm Maddie, by the way."

She thrust out a hand, and Ben suddenly realized it was his turn to speak.

"Er, Ben," he said. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. And this is – er – I'm terribly sorry, Captain, but I've forgotten your given name. Wait – John! That's right. This is Captain John Durward, and I've lost track of how many times he's saved my life today. And speaking of life-saving, what was that little contraption?"

"The– ? Oh! Some kind of sonic bomb. Non-lethal to people – thank God – but it does a real number on anything that runs on electrics."

"Sonic bomb?" Ben repeated. "Fascinating! What sort of power source does it use? I expect there's some manner of compression that triggers detonation – how does that convert to sonic waves?"

"I... don't know," said Maddie. "Sorry, but I don't know how it works. It's one of Victor's inventions."

"Victor?"

Maddie's grip tightened around her parasol. "I met him downstairs. He helped me get this far, but he – he didn't make it."

"Oh," said Ben awkwardly. "That's – er, I mean – that's unfortunate."

As most of Ben's life-experience had thus far been limited to a clock shop workroom, there was a pronounced deficit in his interactions with people – especially with people who didn't chime on the hour. While this dedication to his craft had proved rather valuable up to this point, it didn't do him any favors in this cramped, mournful little moment. The trick would be changing the subject in a respectful and overall tactful manner.

"I wonder where those stairs lead?" he said quickly, pointing to an unembellished flight of narrow wooden steps.

To his relief, Maddie seemed to welcome the new topic.

"Did we make it to the attic?" she said. "Surely we must be close."

Ben nodded to Durward. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

Up the stairs they marched, with Captain Durward as the vanguard, Ben taking the rear, and Maddie in between. The narrow passage culminated in a solid-looking steel hatch in the ceiling. When no apparent locks became obvious and no gruesome traps sprang forth, the captain reached out and tapped three times with the barrel of his rifle. The troupe waited in the dark with bated breath.

Quite suddenly, the door begin to emit a clicking noise not unlike a clock being wound. With a slow, heavy groan, the metal hatch retreated upwards. In its place stood the most disheveled man Ben had ever seen.

"Oh, thank Heavens!" cried Dr. Plumpocket. Wincing, he pulled the hatch further aside to make room for the rescue party. "My communication system failed – I couldn't be sure anyone was still alive. But here you are!"

Even in this dark chamber that was perched atop two floors of death and mayhem, Ben was elated. He was ecstatic. In his mind, this unadorned little instant almost made up for all the previous fire, blood, and bullets. For here Ben stood, face to face with his most cherished idol.

The oddest thing about Dr. Peabody Plumpocket was certainly his appearance. That is to say, he looked utterly normal. He wore no frilly ornamentation, he was unblemished by grease or burns, and he seemed to be constructed of zero-percent clockwork. Here was the most renowned inventor and innovator in Her Majesty's Empire, and yet he could traverse any avenue in plain daylight with neither you nor I being any wiser.

But then something noteworthy caught Ben's eye, interrupting his hero worship. There was a rather savage gash in the doctor's waistcoat, through which criss-crossing bands of fabric could be seen. Both these bands and the surrounding waistcoat itself were stained a dull dirty red. Even with Ben's sheltered life to draw from, there was no mistaking the color of dried blood.

The realization latched onto Ben's mind and snapped him back to the present. He now noticed the pained cringe that accompanied Plumpocket's every step. He could see a boy and girl huddled together in fear against the farthest wall. And though it may have been his imagination, he could swear he heard the scuttling of mechanical claws from the passage behind him.

"How bad is it?" asked Ben, gesturing to the stained bandages. "I mean – sorry – can you be moved?"

The doctor winced again. "Even if I could make it through the traps in my condition – a proposition of which I'm extremely doubtful – I wouldn't dare attempt it with my children in tow."

"Alternative routes?" said Durward.

"Not with the defensive mode active. Every other route will be sealed quite thoroughly."

"So we can't go through the front door," said Maddie. "And we can't go through any other door. Is there no way out at all?"

"On the contrary," said Plumpocket. "Now that you're here, there may yet be a chance. A few dozen paces south of here is a manual override. I can disarm the entire system and make safe our escape if you can only get me to that mechanism. It will be hard, but it may be our only option."

Ben glanced at Maddie, and then at Durward. While there were some significant doubts in the back of his own mind, it was heartening to see that his companions seemed to have none.

"If we go, will your children be safe here?" said Ben.

"Undoubtably they will," said Plumpocket. "This may be an attic, but it's also one of the most impregnable spaces in the manor. Of course, their best hope of survival is for us to disable the defense mode altogether."

"It sounds like there's no time to waste, then," said Maddie. Her tone was overtly confident, but Ben thought he detected undercurrents of panic, suggesting that she too was thinking of an army of clockwork spiders.

The rescue party retreated down the attic steps, allowing Dr. Plumpocket space for a private conversation with his children. Ben scolded his brain for thinking of this as a final farewell.

"How many of those sonic bombs do you have?" he asked Maddie.

"Just one more. Should that be enough?"

"It might be. How are your ammunition stores, Captain?"

"Fair," said Durward. "Won't last forever."

"Hopefully it will last just long enough," said Ben as Plumpocket eased down the stairwell.

"Well, gentlemen," said the doctor. "My apologies – lady and gentlemen – er, shall we go?"

The captain pressed his ear to the hallway door.

"Do you think they're waiting for us?" asked Maddie.

"I wouldn't think so," said Plumpocket. "They're designed to pursue, not to ambush. If you leave their visual range for longer than a few minutes, they'll disperse and resume a patrol pattern. Nevertheless, we should be expedient."

He twisted the lock and took hold of the door handle.

"Are we prepared?" said the doctor. When he received three nods of varying degrees of certainty, he edged the door open slowly.

The immediate corridor was empty. That is to say, empty of anything intact. There didn't seem to be a single inch of carpet unlittered with gears, pistons, and twisted bits of metal. Apart from some vestigial twitching, the hall was motionless.

Motionless, at least, until Dr. Plumpocket stepped through the door.

From the deep shadows of the corridor came a tinny sort of bell note, like the chime above a shop door. In any other context it would have been quite a cheerful sound. In this hallway, however, it was a most ominous noise, made all the more ominous when another bell joined in. And then another, and another. Soon the darkness was filled with the sound of bells, calling and clamoring like a flock of crows who spotted a lurking fox. And now they were moving.

"This way, quickly!" shouted Dr. Plumpocket. Sealing shut the attic door behind them, the group veered right and scrambled down one of the hallways. Behind them scuttled the chiming, clicking, gnashing wrath of a clockwork army.

"Now?" panted Maddie.

"Not yet!" barked Durward.

"There it is!" said Plumpocket, pointing at a seemingly random door. Ben would have been relieved if not for the metal claws rushing to meet them.

"Now?" said Maddie.

"Hold!" said Durward.

They were almost to the door, but the glittering spiders were closer still.

"We're not going to make it!" said Ben.

The din of little alarm bells was nearly deafening. From both directions they came, pouring forth like a great gnashing tidal wave.

"Now?"

"Now!"

"Hands on ears!" In one quick motion, Maddie produced another brass sphere, flicked some hidden switch, and flung it at the floor.

Even though Ben was ready for it this time, he still wasn't ready enough. The sharp shriek of the sonic bomb seemed to bypass his ears entirely, instead burrowing into his bones and rattling his very marrow.

It was worth it, though, to see the oncoming swarm crumble into a jagged, multi-legged heap.

But the sense of victory was all too short. Beyond the barricade of fallen drones came the chipper chiming of yet more spiders.

"Just how many of these things did you make, Doctor?" asked Ben.

"I'm afraid I rather lost count," said Plumpocket, fiddling with the next lock panel. "They blurred together a bit after the first few dozen. Ah – there we are! Everyone inside!"

The group piled through the open door just as a fresh regiment of machines surged into view. With a mighty heave from Captain Durward – and Ben, to a lesser extent – the bloodthirsty wave broke harmlessly on a locked door. After some unproductive clawing and scratching, the spiders again fell silent.

"All things considered, Doctor," said Maddie, "it might be time for a different hobby."

"My dear, I believe you're right. I wonder if aviation might... might possibly... oh my."

The doctor blinked and swayed on his feet.

"Doctor?" asked Ben.

"I – I think perhaps I've lost a smidge too much blood. I'm feeling just a bit faint. No – my apologies – I'll be right again in a moment, I'm sure. But we really must press on. It isn't much farther."

With the doctor suspended between Ben and Durward, the party shuffled down the passage. It wasn't long before the flat featureless walls and ceiling vanished, relinquishing the space to a great cavernous chamber, sparsely lit by a handful of electric bulb lamps. Every flat surface was buried beneath a tangle of pipes. An array of pillar-like mechanisms spun haltingly, clacking like clocks and occasionally emitting little puffs of steam. The entire room hissed and whirred and clanked like a nest of giant mechanical serpents.

"My word, Doctor," said Ben breathlessly. "This is quite an engine."

Dr. Plumpocket smiled blearily. "Thank you. Most of the household mechanisms derive their power from this very room. It truly is my magnum opus."

What with one incident or another, there hadn't been much time for the full brunt of Ben's fanaticism to take charge. But here, in the very heart of Clockwork Manor, he couldn't resist.

"By Jove! How do you transport the energy – mechanically or electrically? Surely it wouldn't be practical to run steamlines to every corner of the building. Oh – what is the actual power source, if I may ask? I expect fuel costs and exhaust management would preclude the use of furnaces alone. How is the steam pressure contained? As sophisticated as your automatons are, I should think a self-regulating system... er... would be... ideal...."

Ben faltered under the gaze of his comrades. While Plumpocket wore a politely amused expression and Durward remained stony as ever, Maddie's peculiar stare implied a clear opinion of round-the-bend-edness.

"Sorry," said Ben. "I mean – well – it's quite warm in here, is it not?"

The doctor smiled. "I must say, it's always gratifying to meet another enthusiast. I wonder if–"

A massive clang exploded throughout the chamber. The accompanying tremor nearly shook Ben off his feet. The remaining blood in Dr. Plumpocket's cheeks seemed to evaporate instantly.

"It isn't – it couldn't be–"

Another peal of thunder rattled the engine-room. The weak electric lights buzzed and flickered. Several whistling jets of steam broke free of their pipage.

"D-doctor?" said Maddie. "W-what's the matter?"

"This room is the vital core of the house. In case of a security breach, I designed one final hurdle to protect my home and my family. But there were complications. It was deactivated – I'm sure of it! I – oh dear."

With one last concussive crash, a steel panel broke free of the wall and soared clear across the chamber, smashing open a steam conduit.

Something huge and hulking ducked through the gaping hole in the wall. It lumbered forward, slouching like a great jungle ape. Lit by dull orange lamp-light and shrouded in steam, it was truly fearsome to behold.

The steel-plated monster turned its glittering black gaze on the intruders in its domain. It stamped its feet, it bellowed, and it charged.

Ben staggered under Plumpocket's sudden weight as Durward fired off a volley. The first few shots might have been midgeflies for all the harm they did, but the beast hesitated when its right eye shattered.

"Get him through!" shouted Durward.

The colossus cocked its head, confused, before lurching after the captain. Ben didn't need to be told twice; he and Maddie heaved Dr. Plumpocket around the battle.

"I think, Doctor," panted Ben, "that your... security... is a touch... over-elaborate!"

"I shan't disagree," said Plumpocket weakly.

On the far side of the engine room was a small opening, easily short enough to leave a nasty bump if one wasn't cautious. The passage only ran for a few meters, terminating in a complex arrangement of dials and levers.

"This is it," said the doctor. "I... I just need to focus for a moment."

A metallic roar echoed from the engine room. The fight raged on, but it couldn't last forever; even the stalwart Captain Durward was still mortal and liable to die.

There was an unfamiliar feeling in Ben's stomach. It was a sort of weightless buzzing, right beneath his ribs. You may know it as the sensation you have when you decide to do something incredibly foolish and potentially dangerous.

"I'm going out there," said Ben.

"You what?" said Maddie. "Are you stark raving?"

"Most likely. But there must be something I can do. If I can't stop that monster, then at least I'll buy some time – I owe that much. Keep the doctor safe, won't you?"

Gathering up his satchel and his courage, Ben turned to the menacing glow of the great steamworks.

"Wait!" said Maddie. "I – I don't know if this helps, but it looked like it has a harder time turning right than left."

"It – you're sure?"

"Fairly sure. At least, it seemed that way to me. Oh – and also – here, take my parasol. It's done me some good so far. It might do for you as well."

"It might just. Thanks."

With a final nervous smile, Ben Bradley charged into the mist towards the stamping of giant feet.

It was harder than ever to see through the thick clouds of steam. He rounded one of the enormous clockwork pillars and something seized him by the collar, slamming him roughly into a steam conduit. Before Ben could react, a hand clapped firmly over his mouth.

It was Durward, materializing from the fog like a ghost on the moor. There was a fresh limp to his gait and his rifle was nowhere to be seen. The captain shot Ben a warning look as a mountainous shadow loomed through the steam. The beast stalked past, rattling the floor with its plodding footfalls.

In the absence of gunshots and the infernal roaring, Ben heard something new. Underneath the clanking plates of the steel hide was a sound knew well – a sound he had heard every single day of his life. It was the whir of gears. It was the rhythmic clack of an escapement. It was the familiar melody of a million tiny parts humming in unison. The terrible juggernaut may well have been a fearsome foe, but it was still made of clockwork.

And no one knew clockwork quite like J. Benjamin Bradley.

With a few wild gestures to Durward, Ben sidled around the steam pipe. His hands shook as he watched the prowling metal beast lumber through the mist. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the superlative reckless idea in a day chock-full of reckless ideas.

The crack of a revolver broke the silence. The colossus bellowed again and turned to pursue the captain. When its first powerful blow missed the mark, Ben saw the truth in Maddie's comment. The beast's whole body twisted to the left during its attack, but there was a jerking slowness while it re-centered. It seemed incapable of withdrawing its fists with the same ferocity that propelled them during an assault.

When the colossus attacked again, Ben sprang forward. If the monster was aware of the tiny human clambering up its back, it made no sign. Nor did it react when its passenger prised open an access panel, exposing the machinery within.

Auxiliary mechanisms linked to redundant transmission overlay, chattered Ben's brain. Primary impulse dictated by one... four... seven escapements.

The beast lunged for Durward, who narrowly escaped behind a clockwork pillar.

Central drive shaft powered by – could it be? A rechargeable dry-cell battery! Remarkable!

Once again the monster lashed out, and once again it missed by a hair's breadth.

Ben reached past the whirling teeth, wrenched loose a pair of wires, and jammed Maddie's parasol into the rocking escapements. Instantly, the mechanism started grinding like a barrel stuffed with gravel. The great clockwork beast shuddered and twitched. With one final tremendous spasm, the colossus pitched forward and landed with a terrible earth-quaking crash.

Ben slid clumsily off of the lifeless hulk, wobbling a bit when he hit the floor.

"Captain!" he called into the gloom. "Captain Durward, are you – ah, there you are! Everything all right, then?"

"Aye, sir," said Durward, staggering forward.

"I must say, you are a credit to your training, Captain. How many Englishmen can say they faced down such a foe?"

"Scotsman, sir."

"Er – yes, of course. Dreadfully sorry. Well then, Captain, shall we see how the doctor fares?"

Despite the lingering cloak of steam, the engine room had lost some of its foreboding. Perhaps it helped that the lights stopped flickering. Perhaps it was an absence of the threat of fatal crushing. In any case, there was nothing to delay a cheerful reunion back at the security alcove.

"You're alive!" cried Maddie. "But you didn't stand a chance! I mean – sorry – that was rude. I only meant – well, that thing was huge!"

Ben smiled. He was still giddy from a near-death and a narrow victory; at the moment, almost anything would have been highly amusing.

"How are we, Doctor?" he said.

"Nearly there," said Plumpocket. His movements were weak still, but his hands on the controls had settled into an efficient sort of rhythm. "After today, I think I may redesign this interface – it's dreadfully inefficient in an emergency. Perhaps a simple key would suffice. And... there we have it!"

Ben knew something was different, but it was a moment before he knew why. Throughout his entire adventure in Clockwork Manor, there had been a sound. It was far below the range of his conscious mind, so he hadn't paid it any notice until it was gone. Without the house's ubiquitous hum, Ben felt a sudden wave of relief. He didn't dare hope that the horrors he had seen were over.

"Is the Manor safe again?" said Maddie, echoing Ben's thoughts.

"Undoubtably," said the doctor. "We can now walk completely unobstructed through the front door. Lady and gentlemen, shall we?"

With the doctor once again held aloft, the party began the trek back to the refuge of the attic.

"That was impressive work," said Dr. Plumpocket as they passed the vanquished colossus. "And with nothing more than a parasol, you say?"

"I... have a way with clockwork."

"I should say so! To make it through so many barred doors and then to fell my greatest contraption, you must have a true talent."

Ben's cheeks flushed. He was quite accustomed to having talent, but surely he would never become accustomed to receiving praise.

"My family owns a clock shop. I learned to tinker before I learned to talk."

"You don't say," said the doctor thoughtfully. "Which shop?"

"Er... 'Bradley & Co.' in Mayfair."

"Indeed? Well, Mr. Bradley, I suspect we shall be visiting your establishment quite soon and quite often. In the meantime, however, let us see to my children."

Postscript...

And so concludes the Curious Matter of Clockwork Manor. I'm sure, reader, that the positive ending comes as no surprise to you. After all, how could I compose this tale if our Ben hadn't survived to tell it to me? There was only the single logical outcome.

Maddie returned home with the express gratitude of Dr. Peabody Plumpocket – a fact that garnered no small amount of respect from her friends and family. I'm sure, though, that the financial rewards came as a lovely additional surprise.

Captain Durward returned to his post with the Metropolitan Police. He received a commendation for his service, but otherwise continues to serve in his customary capacity. I think you'll agree by now that his is a face you would rather not see during a night of unlawful mischief.

And as for the face of Ben Bradley, it has become something of a rarer sight than ever about the flat. He still works at the shop during the day, but now he spends his evenings at Clockwork Manor with the good doctor. I shudder to imagine the bizarre contraptions concocted by the two most peculiar minds in the British Empire.

We can only hope that they do indeed remember to design their escape route accordingly.

Fin.


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Maddie created by Schnujo's Doing NaNoWriMo?

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See also:
"The Curious Matter, Pt. 1" 
"The Curious Matter, Pt. 2" 

Music:
Part I / Main Theme  
Part II / The Door Is Open  
Part III / Monster in the Mist