Prologue: Time

Clouds rolled past at a leisurely pace, swallowing the moon in their mist. The dim light it cast over the city below was overshadowed momentarily, and it gave the clouds a silver lining. The city slumbered in the dark, unaware and uncaring of four well dressed men who strode purposefully toward the center of the metropolis.

            Their black suits and top hats blended in with the night, obscuring their frames and losing their figures in the dark. The tallest of them led with long strides. He reached up with a gloved hand and touched the brass goggles strapped to the base of his hat. Three men followed behind him, dragging a sack behind them.

         The contents of the bag shifted once or twice as they made their way through murky city paths, but quickly stilled when one of them gave it a savage kick. The bag moaned in pain. Their leader turned this way and that down the streets, avoiding the light. It was easy enough; the slag had few lit roads.

            Eventually he turned onto a faintly lit alley. He pulled his overcoat tighter around him, shrugging it up around his face. Street lights lined the path ahead. Their soft blue glow caressed him and his followers, throwing their deformed shadows all about. The shadows followed them like stalkers, creeping closer and closer until they passed each light, and then fading back to the vague until the next one.

         Their path ended into a shrouded stone building. It stood tall and wide, brooding over the city. A river ran directly underneath it, loud and bubbling and gushing water crashed into the silence of the sleeping city behind them. He reached up and touched his goggles again. Still there.

            A giant clock tower loomed over them, its hands ticking the seconds by at precise and perfect intervals.

         Tick tick tick.

         He climbed the steps silently and pushed a few small buttons on a padlock by the door knob. A faint clicking noise was heard from within, and the door swung open. He went inside; his three companions dragged their prisoner behind them.

         The building was void of life. It was even darker inside, so he pulled a small light out to see clearly. They entered an elevator and closed the polished brass gates behind them. The silence seemed to escalate with them as they climbed higher and higher and higher. The only sound was the ticking of their watches and the heavy breathing and whimpers coming from the sack.

         The elevator stopped suddenly and with a soft beep, the gates opened for the inhabitants. They poured out of the elevator, flooding the giant room that opened before them. Gears, wheels, sprockets and all kinds of gadgets surrounded them, interlocking with each other and then releasing. This room was brighter, with moon light coming in through the clock face.

         He strode toward the face of the clock and looked down at the streets below. They were empty. He remained still for a few more seconds, and then turned toward the others. He reached up again with his gloved hand and touched his goggles.

         “Release him.”

         One of them knelt down and sawed through the sack with a tiny silver knife. The moon gleamed off it. The sack fell to reveal a battered and bloodied man. A painful bruise had formed over his left eye, forcing it shut. A small trickle of blood ran from his split lip. The man looked up at them with a pleading eye.

         “Please,” he began, but was immediately cuffed on the back of the head.

         The leader regarded him briefly with pale, uncaring eyes. He knelt down to look him full in his disfigured face.

         “Where is Sheppard?” His voice matched his eyes.

         “I don’t know,” the man replied almost immediately. He sucked in his breath at the word know. Too quick.

         The other man stood up, his pale blue eyes gave away nothing. He walked over to the clock face and put his ungloved hand against the cool glass. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The massive gears around him churned continuously, failing to cease for even a moment. His voice was calculating.

         “You deny working for him?”

         The clock churned on, and the giant wheel moved forward, the smaller gears interlocked with it and made a clinking noise that distorted the perfect silence. Time plowed on, an unstoppable juggernaut.

         Tick tick tick.

         The pathetic man was on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. His body shook violently with convulsions. Their leader paced back to him now, his eyes twitched as he knelt down once more. From his coat sleeve he pulled out a silver knife similar to the first mans, and put it under his prisoners chin, forcing his face to meet his own.

         “Do you deny it?”

         He focused completely on the pointed steel at his throat to keep from shaking. Fear was etched in his ugly face. “No,” he said in a whisper.

         Their leader stood up quickly and motioned to his companions, who grabbed the man and pulled him up off his knees. They dragged him toward the giant, rotating wheel. He struggled against them, but the binds at his hands and feet limited him.

         The massive gear continued to crawl along as they viciously strapped him to it. “You can’t do this,” he shrieked. “This is madness!” He craned his neck to look up at where the giant wheel met with another gear, their teeth interlocking tight and completely with one another. It turned another notch, and moved his entire body with it.

         “Please, I’ll do anything,” he said, unable to take his eyes off the giant wheel of steel that would soon crush his skull.

         “I mean to rid this city of vermin such as yourself,” the man with the pale eyes said. He was looking through the glass. The lines in his face seemed to grow heavier with rage. “But every time I get rid of one of you vile cretins, three more appear to take his place.” He sauntered his captive and looked at him with a grudge in his eyes, as though looking at him was detestable. “You can save yourself,” he said, pulling out his knife a second time. He placed it on the ropes that bound the man to the wheel. “Just tell me where he is.”

         The man shook his head side to side as much as his restraints would allow him too. “I don’t know, I swear it.” He was still looking up at the giant, iron teeth that were about to consume him. He echoed himself now, mumbling. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…”

         Pale eyes roamed over him to his followers. They stood still and silent and dark. A grin spread across his thin, ghostly face. He chuckled. His captive stared at him, confused and terrified.

         Their leader took off his top hat and hung it on a nail that was protruding from the wall. His black hair was slicked back. He was still laughing when he shrugged off his overcoat. His captive let out a scream at this. The man’s entire right arm was robotic. Tiny sprockets and delicate gears moved fluidly with one another, so well that no one would have been able to tell his arm was man-made.

         The man with the iron arm sauntered over to his captive now. His grin turned into a spasm of anger as he reached out with his metal arm and grabbed him by the neck, bringing their faces inches apart.

         “Where is Sheppard?” He screamed. The echo bounced off the walls in the room, filling it with hate. The confined man only sobbed and sank away, shaking his head violently.

         Pale eyes twisted with venomous hatred, and he let go and stalked out of the room. The other three followed closely with his belongings.

         The man tied to the wheel continued to shake his head, unbelief refusing to let go of his mind. This isn’t happening. He struggled in vain against the ropes that bound him to the metalwork’s. His wrists were chaffed and raw and bloody, but he didn’t care. He kept resisting them, fighting against them, until they felt as though they were on fire. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

         The gear turned another notch. His was one away. He pulled and struggled against his binds, unbelief giving way to rage. He shouted curses after the dark men. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and it ran down into his eyes, stinging and blinding. The gears turned and the giant wheel cranked forward another notch.

         Tick tick tick.